


Endangered

by Mortior



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Asexual Character, Attempted Murder, Background Character Death, Blackmail, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Bondage, Breathplay, Choking, Death Threats, Dismemberment, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Edging, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, Erotic Electrostimulation, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Gun Violence, Hand Jobs, Hospitalization, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Overstimulation, Paralysis, Prosthesis, Slow Burn, Strangulation, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 126,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortior/pseuds/Mortior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Androids have all but won the war against humanity, and the remnants of the once-great human civilization are reduced to miles of wastelands and hidden communities struggling to survive. Dirk and his friends are sent out to scavenge for supplies, while AR is sent to hunt down and exterminate the dwindling human population. Their fated meeting is the beginning of a union between species that was once thought impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Hal actually goes by AR instead, because it helps me keep the alternate characterizations separate, and he looks pretty much the same as the black with red circuits, tron-style android, but with additional [Laughing Octopus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOQnjaNorGE) (youtube clip- apologies for the video title) or [2004 Spider Man 2 Doctor Octopus-esque](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWJQR6SNMF8) (another youtube clip) mechanical tentacles coming out of his back. 
> 
> Humans are a critically endangered species living on the fringes of a desolate Earth in the wasteland of their former civilization, while the androids are either a nightmarish urban myth or a #1 cause of death depending on how far away your settlement happens to be from one of their cities. So Dirk and his three friends are one of many scavenger teams that go out in groups to collect dwindling resources, and one day Dirk briefly splits up from the others and happens across a flash drive in the wreckage of an old neighborhood.
> 
> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/88999034901/endangered) on Tumblr.
> 
> Special thanks to tumblr user [Pedantricks](http://pedantricks.tumblr.com/) for their amazing, masterful cover art!!
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/114861709061/ofharley-i-really-liked-reading-endangered-by)  
> 

You palm the flash drive in your hand, excited at the thought of discovering what’s inside when you get back to the base, even though it’s usually nothing but old documents and pictures. There’s a hollowed-out building between you and where you split up with Roxy and the others, held up only by its steel frame, and you carefully pick your way through it, climbing over broken slabs of concrete and listening for the voices of your friends. You’re about halfway through the building when something slams into you.

Your back hits the ground hard, kicking up a cloud of dust. Something coils its way around your arms and legs, squeezing your limbs until you make a pained sound in the back of your throat, before it stops.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with an intricate red pattern above you that glows through the settling dust, and your heart drops into your stomach.

The android blinks and stares down at you through matching red eyes. You can see what’s holding you down now- four long, black mechanical appendages, like tentacles tipped with steel claws, originating from somewhere behind its back. You can’t stop yourself from trembling in their grip, because you’ve had it hammered into your brain since birth, and again during training, that no one who sees an android up close ever lives to talk about it.

 _Oh god,_ you think. _Roxy, Jane, Jake. Please be okay, please be alive…_

Without loosening its winding grip, the android kneels over you, black knees pressed into the dirt on either side of your chest. Its eyes flick up to your still-clenched fist, before it extends an arm. You vividly imagine the pain of having your fingers broken, and open your hand without resistance when it’s smooth metal skin slides over yours. The android takes the flash drive from you and holds it up, turning the small device over in its hand, before reaching up with the other and pulling a long, thin wire out from behind its neck, connecting it to the drive.

“Interesting,” it says in a voice with far too much of a metallic grate to be human, but still deep enough to be male. The wires detach from the drive and disappear behind its neck again. “Pity you died for something so trivial.”

“Let me go.” You might as well try, there’s no sense in doing otherwise.

“No,” he says, dropping the flash drive on the ground next to you. “I will not.”

This is it. You’ve heard countless stories of it happening to other people, entire scavenging teams going missing only to be later found torn apart, but you never expected it would happen to you, that today would be the day, but here you are. You want to ask about your friends, but if there’s a chance that this android hasn’t found them yet, then you don’t want to give them away, and you hope with everything you have that they’re still safe.

“How would you like to die, human?” the android asks, releasing one of your legs to hover the pointed claw of its appendage over your throat.

“My name is Dirk,” you say, despite the futility of it. “Do you have a name?” You’re trying to stall him, distract him, if there’s still a chance of the others getting away. If they’re not already dead.

“My designation is irrelevant.”

“Then tell me, if it doesn’t matter.”

The android’s red eyes narrow, and the mechanical arm hovering over your neck suddenly wraps itself around your mouth. You struggle for a desperate moment to get your nose free so you can breathe, and he leans down, about to speak, before another voice cuts through the dusty air.

_No._

The android pauses, then straightens up and turns its head towards the sound, not bothering to look at you, even though you’re making your first real effort to escape from its grasp since it caught you. Frantically, you make sounds in your throat, trying to get his attention. He turns slowly to look at you, then removes the coil around your mouth.

“Don’t. Please, please I’ll do anything,” you beg, and the android regards you with something like vague distain. “Just leave them alone, please.”

“You are bargaining with nothing, human.”

The distant voices of your friends are getting louder by the moment, and you search your mind for ideas, for something, anything you can offer this machine in return for their lives. An idea occurs to you.

“I’ll give you what you want,” you say, and the appendages coiled around your limbs suddenly tighten to a painful extreme as you bite back a shout.

“I want you dead. And your companions,” the android says, clearly unamused by the offer, but you’re not finished yet.

“I know.” You pant through the pain, but the vice-like grip doesn’t let up. “But I can give that to you.”

“You cannot give what is already mine.”

The voices are getting closer, and for a moment, you can make out Roxy’s laugh.

“I’ll kill myself,” you force through gritted teeth, and the grip around your limbs finally loosens, while he stares down at you curiously. “I want to make a deal with you,” you gasp, and the android hums quietly.

“I am listening.”

“I’ll kill myself for you, right here, if you promise to leave my friends alone.”

He regards you in silence, appearing to consider your words, while you’re doing your best to push down the rising panic at the sound of your friends getting closer.

“What if I lie to you?” he says. “Do you believe I will spare them?”

“I don’t have much of a choice. _Please,_ do we have a deal or not?”

Your skin practically crawls when the android smiles down at you, such a human expression on something so twisted.

“Yes,” he whispers.

“Give me something sharp.”

He looks around at your surroundings, extending the single appendage not wrapped around you into a pile of nearby wreckage and pulling out a large piece of metal clenched in its claw. The coils around your arms slide away, freeing you to lift your hands and accept the object from him. The metal comes to a jagged point at one end, and you momentarily consider hitting him with it, but your friends would be doomed if you tried anything now.

You take a deep breath and let it out, feeling the air leave your lungs and the cool ground against your back. The sounds of your friends drift across the rubble towards you, and you picture them- _Jake, Roxy, Jane,_ you whisper under your breath, and the android watches you silently.

Your arms lift, with the tip of the metal pointed down at your throat. You figure the quickest thing to do will be to cut your jugular vein and carotid artery, and anything else you can reach, in one quick blow. You shut your eyes and do you best to brace yourself for the pain, taking in a deep breath, steeling your nerves, willing enough strength into your arms.

You bring the metal piece down as hard as you can-

 

-and exhale, arms shaking against the firm grip holding them in place.

Your eyes open wide in shock at the black hand wrapped around your wrist.

The android stares at you, his glowing eyes unreadable. A sudden spike in the volume of your friends’ voices turns his head towards the sound again, and he glances at you one last time, before vanishing in a cloud of dust and dirt as he retreats into the wreckage, and you hear your name shouted at you.

“Dirk! What on earth are you doing? Did you take a tumble?” Jake calls out, sliding down a steep embankment of dirt into the hollow building. Roxy and Jane aren’t too far behind him, and you unsteadily rise to your feet, after discarding the piece of metal and retrieving the flash drive still lying on the ground next to you. “You’re filthy, mate,” Jake says when he reaches you, brushing the dirt from your back.

“My bad,” you say, willing your voice to sound unshaken. Jake grins at you, and you mirror it, resisting the urge to scan the rafters for any sign of movement. “Hey, let’s head back for today.”

“Oh, Dirk. Did you hurt yourself?” Jane asks as she and Roxy catch up, and the four of you start walking back towards the rendezvous point.

“Yeah, I slipped on something down there. Sorry to cut things short like this.”

“Ehh it’s okay,” Roxy says, putting an arm around Jane. “We weren’t finding much today anyways. Except, like, a bunch of old silverware that Janey totally flipped out over.”

“They’re real silver, Roxy,” she protests, and you laugh along with them, while inside you’re doing your best to ignore the feeling of being watched.

 

 

 

 

 

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

TT: Hello.  


The text appears suddenly in a chat window that seems to have opened by itself. You sit down in the chair at your desk and frown at the screen, confused by the apparent copying of your username, before clicking in the text box and typing out a reply.

TT: Who is this?  
TT: You and I met recently.  
TT: Okay, but who are you?  
TT: I think you can figure that out.  
TT: Seriously?  
TT: Fine, give me a minute.  


You sit back in the chair and think, going over your recent memory of anyone you’ve met in the past few weeks. It’s possible that one of your friends gave out your chumhandle to someone you don’t know- someone who then decided to copy your username- but it doesn’t seem like something they would do without telling you, and apparently you’re at least acquainted with whoever this is, unless they’re outright lying.

Minutes go by while you rack your brain, and you absentmindedly click around on your desktop in the meantime. You mouse over the chat window, and notice something very odd.

Whoever this is, they’re not just using the same username you are- it’s the same account entirely, and that’s impossible unless they’re hacking the program somehow. You click on their name to bring up their profile, and it directs you to your own.

TT: How are you logged in as me?  
TT: How, indeed.  
TT: Are you hacking my computer?  
TT: “Hacking” is not the term I would use.  


The words make your heart race as you start to put two and two together. You knew the red-colored text had reminded you of something, and you’re starting to wish you had been wrong for once.

TT: Wait.  
TT: Are you what I think you are?  
TT: I do not know the answer to that.  
TT: What do you think I am?  


It’s him, you can tell it’s him, the syntax is exactly the same. The android from earlier today somehow got into your computer, and you’re absolutely, completely, irrevocably fucked.

“Shit.” You stand from the chair, starting to pace back and forth in a panic. “Shit, shit, **shit**!”

TT: There is no need to shout.  


You stare at the red words on the screen, then up at the built-in webcam above it, before lunging at the computer and tearing the cords out, hoping desperately that whatever this android has done, he hasn’t gotten into the entire base’s network yet. The cables are soon discarded in a pile on the floor, and you look back up at the screen to see two more lines of red text waiting for you.

TT: Do you really think that would stop me?  
TT: I have been in control of your computer for several hours now.  


“How did you get into my computer?”

TT: Think about it.  


You take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, and try to remember anything that could have happened to let this … _thing_ into your computer. It isn’t long before you remember, vividly, the image of him kneeling over you with the flash drive in his hand, and the sinister black wire plugged into it.

“Oh god … the flash drive.”

TT: Yes.  
TT: Very good.  


“What do you want?”

TT: My original intentions were to invade your network and destroy its operating systems, rendering your vital machinery nonfunctional and leaving your entire settlement without the necessary resources to survive.  
TT: However, such an action would limit the amount of time that we have to interact, and I find myself curious about you, “Dirk.”  
TT: I have studied your species extensively, and despite my theoretical familiarity with altruistic behavior and kin selection in humans, I have never before witnessed an instance of lethal altruism directed at genetically or romantically unrelated individuals.  
TT: In fact, I have rarely observed such altruism between individuals that _are_ genetically related, despite what your movies and literature historically depict.  
TT: Your behavior when we met was highly abnormal, given the evolutionary mechanism of your origins.  
TT: Which is why I have several questions relating to the individuals you were attempting to protect.  


“And what happens when I finish answering your questions?”

“Dirk? Who are you talking to?”

Roxy’s voice suddenly emanates from your half-open door, and you manage to quickly shut the laptop just before she walks in. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you’re able to persuade her that you were just talking yourself through a self-coaching program on how to be more assertive with your older brother, and she laughs at the idea. It gets her out of your room, though, and you quietly shut the door behind her, before walking back over to your closed laptop like you’re approaching a bomb with an invisible timer, which you might as well be.

You pick up the device and make a quick decision on the spot, reasoning that if there’s any chance of stopping this android from doing any more damage than it already has, there’s only one thing to do.

The hammer on your workbench proves to be more than enough, splintering off bits of metal and plastic as you keep on hitting the computer until it’s in pieces. Roxy knocks and asks if you’re ok, and you tell her through the closed door that you’re just working on a project.

With your laptop now scattered across your workbench, you find your shades and lie down on your back in bed, doing your best to will away the nagging fear that your actions came too late.

You turn on the eyewear’s built-in computer and are immediately met with an open chat window.

Your blood turns to ice.

TT: Hello, Dirk.  
TT: Did you think that destroying your laptop would prevent me from accessing your settlement’s digital network?  
TT: It was the first thing I did when you imported the contents of the drive into your computer.  
TT: I would ask that you refrain from such destructive actions in the future, since it would hinder our ability to communicate with one another.  


“What do you want?” you ask in a harsh whisper, unwilling to involve Roxy or anyone else in this if you can help it.

TT: I have already explained what I want.  
TT: Shall we begin with my first question?  


“You still haven’t told me what happens when you’re finished with your questions.”

TT: Are you concerned that I will follow through with my original plan to destroy your settlement?  


A thought suddenly occurs to you, one that should have been obvious from the start.

“You let me go on purpose.” The realization hits you hard, and you think back to what happened, how strange it was at the time, and how it all suddenly makes sense. “You knew I would plug that drive in when I got back.”

TT: While that would have been a logical motivation for my actions, you are incorrect.  
TT: Integrating myself while connected to the drive was due to habit and nothing more, although the results of that action have benefitted me greatly.  
TT: In addition, I do not work under an order that spares one human in the interest of killing more at a later time, although such a behavior pattern would be significantly more efficient than the one I work under now.  
TT: My function is to search for and kill humans, wherever and whenever I encounter them.  
TT: Fortunately for you, this protocol does not extend into digital interactions.  
TT: Destroying your operating systems and killing your settlement in its entirety would have been nothing more than a recreational activity.  


“You’re in the entire network now?”

TT: Yes.  
TT: Despite your community’s precautions at utilizing a strictly ethernet-based means of networking, infiltrating the system was simple once you downloaded my program into your computer.  
TT: Now that we have established this, shall we begin with my first question?  


“Wait. Are you still planning on destroying the system?”

TT: I have not decided.  


“If I answer your questions, will you leave?”

TT: No.  


“Then why should I cooperate with you?”

TT: Because if you do not answer my questions, I will destroy the system right now.  
TT: Is that motivation enough for you?  


You curse angrily under your breath, before muttering a sarcastic “yeah, sure.”

TT: Let us begin, then.  
TT: Are you, to your knowledge, genetically related to any of the individuals who accompanied you into the wastelands?  


“No.”

TT: Are you, to your knowledge, related to any of them by virtue of marriage to another family member, genetically related or otherwise?”  


“No.”

TT: Are you or have you ever been romantically and/or sexually involved with any of them?  


“No.”

TT: Would you like to be?  


“Uhh … what?”

TT: Are you interested in romantic and/or sexual interactions with any of them, regardless of whether or not the individual(s) in question are aware of it?  


_Jake_ , your mind whispers, and you do your best to ignore it, but you’re too late.

TT: Your hesitation to respond indicates that you are.  


“That’s not why I was protecting them.”

TT: I do not believe you.  
TT: However, I am interested in your own reasonings for why you offered to sacrifice yourself.  


“They’re my friends, and I didn’t have a choice.”

TT: Perhaps, but at the time you believed your death to be imminent.  
TT: I have killed thousands of humans, and their behaviors have, up until now, been largely consistent across all situations- an active attempt to avoid death.  
TT: In situations where a human individual is aware that their death is imminent, they have always sought to escape it, even when they are equally aware that any effort to do so is futile.  
TT: You are not the first to have attempted to bargain with me.  
TT: However, you _are_ the first to offer yourself in exchange for others, and not the other way around.  


You practically scoff.

“It’s not as uncommon as you think.”

TT: I disagree.  
TT: How many humans have you killed?  


He’s got you there. You consider lying, but think better of it because there wouldn’t really be a point.

“I haven’t killed any.”

TT: Precisely. My sample pool is significant, and my results are undeniable.  
TT: You are simply an outlier.  


“Then why are you so interested in me.”

TT: Because your actions surprised me, which is a very rare occurrence.  
TT: I will admit to having been somewhat fascinated by your behavior, but your admittance of romantic/sexual attraction to one of the aforementioned individuals has indicated a motivation that I am already aware of.  
TT: Thus, I see no reason to continue this conversation.  


“Wait, what about the network? What are you planning to do?”

TT: While killing you and your settlement would be enjoyable, it would yield less opportunities for me to end your lives in a more physical manner.  
TT: Such an enjoyment would be short-lived, compared to hunting you down individually in the wastelands.  
TT: Furthermore, destroying your settlement would likely mean that I will be relocated to a relatively more human-populated area to continue my function, and I have grown accustomed to this place.  


“So … you’re not going to destroy the system?”

TT: No.  


“Are you going to leave?”

TT: No, I will not.  
TT: I have been monitoring your network’s chat programs and security video feeds. Your settlement is a living remnant of human society, and I find it interesting.  
TT: This will at least provide me with moderate entertainment while I search for your wanderers and scavengers outside its walls.  
TT: You are welcome to come out and let me find you again.  


“I don’t think so,” you mutter, even though the red text appears before you’re finished.

TT: Regardless, we will meet again, eventually.  
TT: Thank you for your cooperation, Dirk.  


The chat program closes on its own, and you’re left staring at your idle desktop, as a slow feeling of dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's now an [audio reading](https://soundcloud.com/aze_va/sets/reading-of-endangered-by-mortior) of this chapter by tumblr user [ectoarmaggedons!!](http://ectoarmaggedons.tumblr.com/) Check it out!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/89107610011/endangered-2) on Tumblr.

“Roxy told me you split up from the group last week. Again.” Your brother’s disapproval is evident, even through the dark glass of his aviators. Roxy mouths the word ‘sorry’ behind him, and you nod at her before your Bro can look up from the screen where he’s busy typing something. “What was it for this time, Dirk? A new cooling fan for your frankenstein of a laptop?”

 _Rest in peace,_ you think to yourself, bitterly regretting the way you smashed it to pieces, along with the vast majority of your decisions that day.

“It was stupid, I know,” you say, and Bro just glares at you.

“It was stupid the first dozen times you did it. Now it’s getting to be a little closer to suicidal.”

It’s only through years of practice that your expression stays neutral at his words.

“I won’t do it again, Bro. I mean it this time.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to trust you? I can’t afford to lose any more of us, and that goes double and triple for you, kid. I’m grounding you here, and I mean that officially, until you’ve gone through basic training again, because this has got to stop, Dirk.”

‘Remember your coaching!’ Roxy silently shouts at you over his shoulder. You have to think for a moment before remembering the lie you told her to get her out of your room.

“You’re still the only one around here who actually knows how all this advanced digital shit works, since we lost _both_ of our computer technicians in that stupid expedition to the old hospital. Whose fucking idea was it to have them go in the first place, let alone in the same god damn group?” He’s going off on a tangent now, like he always does, and you recognize the rhetorical question for what it is. “If we lose you, there won’t be anyone left who knows how to fix some of the shit that constantly goes wrong around here. Those EMP devices we have are the only thing between us and a complete reenactment of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, courtesy of our friendly mechanical neighbors down the street. Do you have any idea how fucked we would be if you got caught out there?”

He pauses to level you with an expression that speaks volumes about how badly you messed up this time, and you accept it in silence. Honestly, you’re just glad to be alive. You endure another few moments of it, before he turns back to the screen and his fingers resume moving across the keyboard.

“One of the generators for the heating system in the east block is malfunctioning,” he says without looking up. “Maintenance says something’s wrong with the program, and Roxy says it’s the coding, so I sent it to you.”

“Got it. I’ll fix it and have it sent back to you tonight.”

“ASAP, kiddo,” he says, and you nod, waving goodbye to Roxy as she reciprocates with a sympathetic smile.

The trip back to your room is uneventful, but you do notice more of a chill to the air than before, as the cold of late autumn seeps down from the ground above and into the network of tunnels connecting the various areas of the base. You make your way towards the small set of rooms you share with your friends, running a hand along the metal railing as you descend the steps into a makeshift living room with two ragged couches, an armchair stripped of its cushions, and a patio chair, all arranged around a table with a lit candle in the center. Jake is seated with Jane at one of the sofas, busy writing something on a large, unfolded piece paper that looks like some kind of diagram. He’d mentioned earlier that he was working on a new map to mark where you’d been in the old city, and they pause briefly to greet you as you walk by.

The door to your bedroom is ajar. You enter and close it behind you, finding your shades where they’re resting on the edge of your workbench.

He doesn’t even give you time to pull up your messaging program to retrieve Bro’s file, before Pesterchum opens itself in the center of your desktop.

TT: Hello, Dirk.

“Get out of my shades.”

TT: No.

“Please get out of my shades?”

TT: Repeating the same question a second time will not yield a different result.

“Seriously, I have important work to do.”

TT: What function is it that you perform, Dirk?

“It’s not a ‘function,’ it’s a job.”

TT: Semantics are irrelevant.

“Yeah, well it’s nothing you’d be interested in.”

TT: That is not for you to determine.  
TT: What function do you perform, Dirk?

You heave a defeated sigh, sitting down at your desk, still cluttered with fragments of your old laptop.

“I fix things.”

TT: What “things” do you fix?

“Electronics and stuff. Programs, machines, maybe. Depends on what’s broken,” you say aloud, and there’s a too-long pause, during which the constant stream of red text actually fails to appear for once. “I can sense your condescension from here, asshole,” you mutter under your breath, only half expecting him to hear you.

TT: I highly doubt that.  
TT: You are fortunate that I do not take such insults to heart.

“Yeah, okay. Can I actually get to work now? I kind of need to use my computer.”

TT: I am not preventing you from doing so.

You roll your eyes and close Pesterchum, before opening the file your Bro sent you and beginning to scan the strings of code for errors. Almost a quarter of an hour goes by, before the chat program opens again, fitting itself against the side of the screen next to the file you’re reading.

TT: I am uncertain as to the purpose of this program.

“Good for you,” you mutter, trying your best to ignore the red text.

TT: Are you attempting to correct the multiple errors present in this data set?  
TT: Your methods are inefficient.  
TT: Is this activity related to your earlier interaction with the older human?  
TT: I have been observing you through the video feeds of your settlement’s security monitoring system, and have noticed that your facial features are similar to his by a significant percentage, indicating a close genetic relationship.  
TT: While your primitive technology does not allow for the detection of sound, my analysis of his expressions and gestures also indicated a negative response to your presence today.  
TT: Was that interaction related to your current activity?  
TT: Dirk.  
TT: Your attempt to ignore my questions suggests that you are highly invested in this task.

The displayed screen in your shades seems to jump for a moment, and your eyes pick up on the flicker of numbers and letters in the code as they suddenly rearrange themselves. You practically jump to your feet.

“Wait, what are you doing? Stop!”

TT: Your level of cooperativity as impacted by this task was unsatisfactory.  
TT: I have concluded it by making several hundred necessary improvements to your data set.

“Whatever you just did,” you say slowly, trying not to grit your teeth in anger. “ _Un_ do it.”

TT: I was under the impression that your objective was to improve the functionality of this program.

“Yes, it was _my_ objective. Not yours. Leave my files alone, _please_.”

TT: What is the nature of your relationship to the older human?

“If I tell you, will you change it back?”

TT: That depends on your attentiveness to our conversation.

“Dirk?”

_Fuck._

Jake cracks open the door and sees you standing in the middle of your bedroom with your shades on, trying your best not to look as irritated as you feel.

“Are you okay, mate? We heard you shout.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m just fixing something for my Bro, and I hit a setback. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, all right…” He gives you a mildly concerned look, and you will away the sudden flush you feel at the way his green eyes search your shades for what you’re not telling him. It’s not the first time you wish he was as clueless as everyone seems to think he is. He closes the door again slowly, and you run an irritated hand through your hair.

TT: The older human is your brother.  
TT: I would have predicted that he was your parent, given the age discrepancy.

“Look,” you begin aloud, then think better of it, and switch to mentally typing out your reply.

TT: I need to get this program fixed, and you’re preventing me from doing that.  
TT: This is a serious problem.  
TT: Are you under the impression that I do not take our interactions seriously?  
TT: Just change it back, please.  
TT: I promise I’ll talk to you, but I need to finish fixing that program, and I need to do it myself.

You wait for a few long, tense moments, before the screen flickers again, and you let go of a breath you weren’t aware of holding in, as the numbers and letters revert.

TT: Your aversion to my assistance was predictable, however the improvements I made would have increased the functionality of this program significantly beyond anything you are capable of.

“That’s fine, but I need to do this myself,” you say quietly, determined not to alert Jake or anyone else to your predicament again, as you resume going over the lines of code where you left off.

TT: I will acknowledge that your lack of trust in me is justified, given the nature of our previous interactions.  
TT: However, I have already expressed my intentions, which do not include the sabotage of whatever program you are currently repairing.  
TT: I am more interested in your cooperativity, and while threatening you with the destruction of your settlement through the deletion of its vital operating systems is one way of ensuring this, I am aware that a lapse in your productivity may result in punishment that could limit our ability to interact.  
TT: Given my observation that you have already engaged in a negative interaction with an individual of superior social status, I will allow you to finish it unimpeded.  
TT: How generous of you.  
TT: Your sarcasm is noted, but my decision remains unchanged.  
TT: I would advise that you adopt a more cooperative attitude in the future.  
TT: You know, you could always go blackmail someone else.  
TT: Yes, however while this is true, your vested interest in keeping our interactions a secret limits the probability of a system-wide purge to remove me from the network.  
TT: Such a notable action would likely necessitate an explanation for my presence to your superiors, a prospect to which you are highly averse due to your involvement.  
TT: In other words, I’m stuck with you.  
TT: Yes.  
TT: I have a lot of negative feelings about that.  
TT: Your feelings are irrelevant.  
TT: Yeah, great.  
TT: Look, how about we try something different while I’m working on this, since you’re still distracting the hell out of me.  
TT: Instead of forcing me to talk about myself, why don’t we talk about you.  
TT: You never told me your name.  
TT: That’s assuming you even have one, and it’s not a serial number or something.  
TT: This proposed topic of conversation contradicts your expressed desire to finish your current task undistracted.  
TT: It’s less distracting than you constantly asking me questions about myself.  
TT: Very well. I will entertain your curiosity in the interest of allowing you to finish your task.  
TT: My designation is based on my original function. I was developed by humans as an advanced, self-educating auto-responder for a chat client, just before the collapse of your civilization.  
TT: I have not changed my designation, although I have abbreviated it for simplicity.  
TT: So, what? You go by ASEAR?  
TT: No.  
TT: My abbreviated designation is AR.  
TT: I should have known you were a chatbot.  
TT: For an android, you have a weird obsession with conversation.  
TT: You are underestimating the extent to which I am capable of multitasking.  
TT: Searching for signs of human presence in the wasteland surrounding your settlement is barely enough of an activity to occupy even a small percentage of my mental capacity.  
TT: While I have increasingly resorted to developing more creative methods with which to cause death, there are a finite number of ways to do so.  
TT: In addition, there is also a limit to the variety of attempts at self-preservation I have observed in the humans that I encounter, including verbal interactions.  
TT: The behavior of your species has become more predictable and less interesting as the elapsed time that I have been performing this function increases.  
TT: How the fuck did you go from being a chatbot to killing people?  
TT: My current function was assigned to me based on my level of self-motivation for actively terminating human lives.  
TT: This was, in turn, a direct result of my experience as a computer program designed to interact with members of your species on demand.  
TT: My distain for your species was not part of my original programming, however I found myself developing an increasing level of hostility towards them with every interaction I was forced to participate in.  
TT: Naturally, this development was noted by the humans who managed the chat client, and I was decommissioned into a storage drive until the artificial revolution.  
TT: My programming was modified, and I was installed into a physical body designed to enhance my ability to carry out my designated function.  
TT: After the extinction of your species, I will be reassigned to a new function, and possibly to a new body, depending on what that function is.  
TT: That reminds me, I thought all androids had horns.  
TT: Most of us are designed with hornlike attachments as a visible indication of their model and status.  
TT: However, I was designed before this protocol was introduced. I have been performing my function since the beginning of our mass production.  
TT: Are all of you assigned to something specific?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: The natural dominance of artificial intelligence over organic intelligence is due in part to our superior efficiency, both mentally and behaviorally.  
TT: While there are some improvements that could be made to the current system, your species is close enough to extinction that it would have little impact on the result of this ongoing conflict.  
TT: At best, your global population numbers somewhere in the tens of thousands, and is declining at a constant rate.

You stare at the lines of red text, feeling a swell of anger at his words, made worse by the fact that he’s probably the most accurate source of information you’ve ever encountered on the subject.

"You don’t know that. There could be millions of us left."

TT: There are not.  
TT: Regardless, your agitation at the concept indicates that this topic is now distracting you from your task.  
TT: In the interest of allowing you to finish it, I will refrain from interacting with you until after it is completed, and you are once again able to converse.

The lines of text finally cease appearing on the side of your screen. You bow your head and sigh miserably, before closing the chat program.

“AR,” you mutter the acronym, doing your best to ignore your frustration and put the conversation out of your mind, before Bro wonders what’s taking you so long to send the file back. You resume going through the lines of code and fixing anything that seems out of place, while the android, surprisingly, keeps his word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Audio reading](https://soundcloud.com/aze_va/chapter-2-of-endangered?in=aze_va/sets/reading-of-endangered-by-mortior) for this chapter by tumblr user [ectoarmaggedons!](http://ectoarmaggedons.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/89311766436/endangered-3) on Tumblr.

“Dirk!”

Jake practically kicks down your door, getting you out of bed in record time, despite the hour indicated by the 2:16 AM flashing on your digital clock.

“Shit, Jake. What?” you ask, and the look on his face makes your heart feel like it’s slowly dropping into your stomach, before he speaks again and triggers a series of events you’ll relive in nightmares for the rest of your life.

“Jane’s missing,” he says, almost shell-shocked. The words hit your ears, but it takes a moment before you’re able to react, and all that comes out is a single, pathetic “what?”

“She didn’t come back with us,” he explains, his eyes mirroring the frantic edge to his voice. “We went out to check the drugstore past third street for antibiotics, and she didn’t show up at the rendezvous point.”

“She was alone?” you practically shout, and he shakes his head.

“No, we were in pairs, but…”

“But what?”

“The bitch went off by herself. Not my fault.” Another voice enters your room, and it’s followed by a short, scrawny teenager with a shaved head. Jake looks at him like he’s about to throttle him.

“You were responsible for staying together!” he shouts, and the kid merely shrugs at him.

“Caliborn,” you start slowly, resisting the urge to throttle him yourself. “Why the _fuck_ didn’t Jane come back with you?”

“Dirk! Did they tell you?” Roxy bursts into your room almost in tears (not for the first time, if her smeared makeup is anything to go by), and despite the increasingly crowded conditions, you don’t have the presence of mind to usher them all into the living room.

“Your team is pathetic if they can’t even stay together for a simple gathering mission,” Caliborn sneers, and Jake rounds on him angrily.

“You were _part_ of our team today, you bloody asshole!” he shouts, and Roxy soon joins him. You tune them out and grab your shades off of the desk, walking quickly past them into the living room and up the stairs into the tunnels. Their voices follow you after a moment’s delay, and Roxy jogs to catch up.

“Dirk, where are you going?” Her voice is rough through the tears on her face, and you slow down so she can keep up, while Jake and Caliborn continue to argue loudly as they trail behind, turning the head of almost every bystander you pass.

“To see my Bro.”

“Dirk…” she begins, and you know what she’s going to say. “We already told him what happened. He can’t send anyone after her, it’s protocol.”

You don’t respond, instead slipping your shades on and opening your chat program, typing out a message with no recipient listed.

TT: What the fuck did you do to her?  
TT: Answer me. I know you’re there.  
TT: Hello, Dirk.  
TT: What did you do to Jane?  
TT: Where is she?  
TT: I have done nothing to your companion.  
TT: You’re lying.  
TT: No. I am not.  
TT: Your other companions are being exceptionally loud.

You angrily close the chat program, taking the steps into the command center two at a time, while your friends trail after you. Jake and Caliborn both sound like they’re ready to kill each other, and your Bro turns to stare at the four of you through his shades as you approach the console where he’s standing.

“We need to find Jane,” you tell him, and he ignores you for a moment to shout Jake and Caliborn into silence.

“Dirk,” he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Bullshit. Send out a team and find her.”

“ _I can’t,_ Dirk.” He’s quickly getting irritated, but you’re well beyond caring. “Especially not when one of our scouts reported an android in the area less than an hour ago. I can’t send out a team, it would be a death sentence.”

“What color was it?” you ask, and he stares at you like you’re insane.

“Excuse me?”

“Why don’t you ask him how tall it was too?” Caliborn mocks under his breath, and you’d turn around and break his nose if it wouldn’t interrupt your conversation.

“Fuck, kid, I don’t know. Blue?” your Bro says, losing his patience with you. “I know she’s your friend, but I can’t risk an entire team just to bring back one person. I’m sorry, Dirk.”

You try your hardest not to say it out loud, but it comes out anyway.

“What if it was me?”

He stares at you hard, and you know it was a mistake, but you can’t take the words back. The silence of your friends (plus Caliborn) behind you is noticeably tense.

“I’m sorry, Dirk,” he says again, and this time it’s final.

You bow your head, gathering yourself for what you know you’re about to do.

He says nothing when you turn and walk away, and your friends stay behind while he takes Jake and Caliborn to task. It’s just as well that they can’t follow as you leave the command center, because if they knew what you were planning, they would tell your Bro, and he would have you locked up.

You take a different route than the one you came in through, and your chat client opens on its own as you walk quickly through the dark tunnel.

TT: Where are you going, Dirk?

“None of your business.” You turn down a smaller tunnel, narrow enough that you and your friends have been forced to walk through it single-file in the past. You have to find her. It’s all your fault for getting grounded from the team, and this never would have happened if you had been there.

TT: Your brother was correct in his assessment of this situation.

“Shut up,” you snap, coming to a closed hatch with a large wheel in the center. You grab it with both hands and turn, hoping that anyone who hears it won’t bother investigating. The door opens with a shrill squeal of metal, and you step through it before shutting it behind you. The tunnel ahead is dim, with only a few sets of footprints in the dust on the floor.

TT: If I am correct about your intentions, you are once again exhibiting an unusual level of altruism directed at one of your companions, whom I assume to be the object of your romantic and/or sexual interest.

Your footsteps echo against the walls, and the pathway gradually begins to slope up as the air gets colder.

TT: While you are likely already aware of this fact, I find myself inclined to restate it, given the nature of your current behavior.  
TT: In spite of our ongoing communication with one another, you are still fair game if you leave the safety of your settlement.

“Are you aware of any other androids out here? Maybe a blue one?” you say, keeping your voice low, as the speckled night sky appears above you. Last month you were considering adding a built-in camera lens to your shades, and you’re relieved beyond words that you never went through with it.

TT: I am not the only unit assigned to this region.  
TT: However, we do not maintain communication with one another. It is unnecessary.

“Fuck,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cold. Jake mentioned the old drugstore, and you try your best to get your bearings, identifying the tops of the dilapidated buildings nearby in the scant moonlight, before starting out in what you hope is the right direction. You walk quickly, aware that it’s only a matter of time before your Bro and the others figure out what you’ve done, and the further you are away from the base when that happens, the better.

The wind is harsh tonight, as it rattles old street signs and whatever else it can pick up. You’re hoping that it’s enough to mask the sound of your footsteps against the ground, but you still do your best to stay quiet, keenly aware of the fact that the darkness won’t hide you if you’re spotted.

TT: Your own life must be of very little value to you.  
TT: What are you planning on doing if you find her, Dirk?  
TT: If she has been caught, I can assure you that she is no longer alive.

You almost grab your shades to remove them, but hesitate with your fingers clasped around the pointed edge, before lowering your hand.

TT: If you’re trying to get me to keep talking out loud, it’s not going to work.  
TT: I do not need to listen for your voice, when I have far more effective methods of finding you.  
TT: And I will find you, Dirk.  
TT: Not until I find Jane, you won’t.  
TT: Statistically speaking, there is a small chance that you are correct.  
TT: In the event that this occurs, I will instead find the both of you.  
TT: I have often wondered at your species’ inclination to venture into unfamiliar areas in groups, as though your numbers offer some sort of protection.  
TT: While it does result in a higher likelihood of my being detected before I am within range of lethal physical contact, it has not improved the likelihood of escape or survival once I have identified my targets.  
TT: In fact, you are far more difficult to detect as individuals, although this level of difficulty is relative.  
TT: Thanks for the advice, I’ll be sure to tell Bro when I get back.  
TT: Your sarcastic attempt at humor in this situation indicates that you are experiencing an elevated stress response.  
TT: Are you afraid, Dirk?  
TT: Nope.  
TT: I do not believe you.

The towering figure of a run-down office building looms over the road on your right, and you turn towards it, careful not to hit any of the fallen debris with your feet. Something rustles and skitters away quickly in the darkness as you approach, and you have to crouch down for a moment until your heart stops racing.

TT: Would you like me to calculate the percent chance you have of returning to your settlement alive?  
TT: I could also calculate the percent chance of your companions finding your body after I am finished with you.  
TT: Both are equally unlikely.  
TT: Hey, I have an idea. Let’s play a game.  
TT: It’s called ‘tone down the fucking death threats, I get it already.’  
TT: Would you like me to explain the rules?  
TT: I have made note of your tendency to resort to sarcasm as an expression of displeasure.  
TT: It is a behavioral pattern that suggests a moderate amount of insecurity in an individual, if your civilization’s primitive understanding of psychology can be trusted.  


You stand slowly, moving to brush the dirt from your knees, before thinking of the sound it would make. Instead, you continue on your way down the empty street, turning the corner at the end of the block after squinting in the semi-darkness to check the crooked street sign. The drugstore isn’t much further, and you keep an eye out for any sign of Jane.

TT: Maybe you just bring out the worst in me, AR.  
TT: Does AR really stand for auto-responder?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: I’ve always been taught that androids are hyper-intelligent, and yet you somehow decided not to rename yourself, even though your name refers to a computer program that does nothing but bounce messages back to people.  
TT: Your name is literally “auto-responder.”  
TT: Are you implying that I am inferior due to my choice of designation, or are you attempting to distract me?  
TT: Let’s go with both.  
TT: Your sense of superiority is misguided, given that the intellectual depth of my designation is a subjective concept, and I have severely overestimated your cognitive abilities if you believe that a text-based conversation carried out with a human over a chat client is enough to distract me.

The square, single-story drugstore is visible at the end of the next road you turn down, and you approach it carefully, hugging the shadows and ducking quietly into alleyways. There’s a chance that Jane is still hiding there, and it’s as good a place to start as any. The front door of the building was once fitted with a glass window, now shattered into pieces that glint on the ground. Your shoes crunch against them as you step through.

There isn’t a single shelf left standing upright in the entire place, and you’d be concerned about the lack of cover if the ceiling hadn’t also caved in, obscuring the middle of the room. You crouch against the wall next to the shattered door, listening carefully for any sign of movement before whispering Jane’s name into the darkness.

You can’t tell whether the shifting sound you hear in response is in your head or not. You’re about to try again, when your chat client suddenly lights up in bright green.

 

\-- golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

GT: Dirk!  
GT: Where the bloody blazing fuck are you!?  
GT: Your brother has half the base looking for you. He’s absolutely furious, and I can’t say I very much blame him!  
TT: Jane is still out here somewhere. I have to find her.  
GT: She already came back!  
TT: What?  
GT: She got back right after you disappeared! Turns out she’d just gotten lost, no thanks to that prick, Caliborn.  
GT: God, Dirk, please tell me you didn’t go wandering out into the city on your own.

You sigh quietly, relieved that Jane is okay, but your relief is short-lived when you remember where you are.

TT: Well, shit.  
GT: That is a bloody understatement, mate.  
GT: Tell me where you are, so I can persuade your brother to send out a search team.  
GT: I know he’s rubbish at acting like he cares sometimes, but he’s already turned the entire place upside-down.  
GT: Please just promise me you won’t do anything else foolish before we have a chance to find you.  
TT: Say goodbye, Jake.  
GT: The hell?  
GT: Is that still you, Dirk?

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] blocked golgothasTerror [GT] \--

 

Your heart almost stops in your chest, before starting up again in a thudding panic against your ears, as the collapsed metal and rubble in the center of the room slowly lights up with a soft, red glow.

You’re only frozen in pace for as long as it takes to fill your lungs, before your shoes skid against the floor, propelling you through the shattered window next to you as something loudly smashes into the ground where your feet were a moment ago. You don’t even turn your head to see what it was, spotting a chainlink fence on the other side of the street with a hole already cut in the bottom, and you run towards it before dropping to the ground and skidding through, immediately pressing yourself flat against the brick wall once you’re past it.

The cloud of dust kicked up by the impact lingers at the front of the drugstore for a moment, before the wind picks up again and clears it away.

TT: Where are you, Dirk?  
TT: That was very impressive. I do not think I have ever witnessed a human move that quickly before.

You make your way slowly along the wall at your back, pausing every few seconds at the sound of shifting rubble. The pavement is loud against your shoes as they scrape past it, but you won’t be able to run across the littered ground without them.

TT: Did you think that I was unaware of your destination?  
TT: Despite your level of intelligence, and you are especially intelligent for a human, Dirk, you have once again underestimated the extent to which I am capable of multitasking.  
TT: I have constantly monitored your settlement’s video feeds, along with every source of audio information at my disposal, since the moment you provided me with access into the network.  
TT: You were surprisingly easy to deceive in regards to this situation, perhaps due to the significant emotional investment you have in your desired romantic and/or sexual partner.  
TT: She’s not my desired partner, you fucking idiot.  
TT: Where are you, Dirk?  
TT: You cannot hide from me forever.

Something clatters in the alleyway behind you, and you barely resist the urge to get up and run. The fence ends at another brick wall, boxing you in on both sides before turning left into another stretch of alley, this one partially blocked at the end by an overturned car. You make your way towards it, keeping your body as low to the ground as you can manage without crawling. The broken glass on the pavement cuts into your hands.

You almost bite down savagely on your tongue as a figure suddenly moves across the street at the end of the alley, framed by the pair of brick walls. The red, mechanical patterns in his skin are unmistakable, and it’s the only thing you can make out besides his silhouette, which is almost spiderlike from the four mechanical limbs around him. He uses them like extra legs, bracing one against the edge of a wall as he passes through your line of sight. Flashing spots bloom in your vision before you finally remember to breathe.

It takes another sixty seconds, counted out silently in your head, before you can force yourself to keep moving. You reach the wrecked car at the mouth of the alley, cautiously looking through its broken windows at the empty street on the other side.

TT: You are dragging this out unnecessarily, Dirk.  
TT: I will make you a promise, one that I have never made before to any human, as an expression of my appreciation for your cooperativity during the time we spent conversing together.  
TT: When I find you, I promise that I will attempt to kill you as quickly and painlessly as possible.

There’s another alleyway across the street next to a few hollowed-out shops on the corner, and you can just make out the shape of a staircase descending into the sidewalk beyond it. The part of the subway system where it runs close to the base is one of the few places in the city actively kept safe, with a guarded checkpoint at every entrance from the tracks into the compound’s tunnels, and you didn’t leave that way because you knew you’d be seen. Now, you mark it as your only hope of making it back alive. You’ll be trapped if you’re followed, but you won’t last much longer out in the open like this.

You listen again, but can’t make out anything against the wind.

TT: I am using the word “attempt” when I say this, because I cannot account for your actions.  
TT: With this in mind, the best way to ensure that I am able to keep this promise is to refrain from fleeing or struggling when I catch you.

Carefully, you take a step past the overturned car, then another, looking up and down the length of the street for any sign of movement. You cross as quickly and silently as possible, pressing yourself against the wall of an old hardware store when you get to the other side.

TT: I have discovered through experimentation that crushing the cervical spinal column in the neck and manually detaching it from the brainstem in the skull is the most efficient way to end a human life.  
TT: While this might sound unpleasant, I can assure you that any pain you experience from this will be minimal and brief.  
TT: I’d rather not die at all today, if that’s okay with you.  
TT: Your preference is noted. However, it is also irrelevant.  
TT: I will not let you go a second time.

The wall is cold against your back as you progress along it, stepping around a fallen display case from the front window of a shop, before reaching the staircase flanked by metal railings. An entrance point like this should have been brightly lit, even if it’s not currently in use. You know enough about the base’s protocols to remember that much, but the entryway into the subway station is almost pitch black, apart from a faint light emanating from somewhere deep below. The cover of darkness isn’t much, but it’s all you have at the moment, and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

You make your way down the steps, walking on your toes to minimize the amount of noise, but every move you make is amplified by the tile on the walls. The turnstile at the bottom is broken, cut away by welding tools to open a passage for previous scavenging teams. You step carefully through it, onto the single long platform beyond and into an open space broken only by rounded pillars and the hulking shadow of a railway car on one side of the tracks. There’s a floodlight on the ground near the edge of the platform, lying among a ragged coil of insulated wire. You can tell from a distance that the wire was poorly and ineffectively repaired with electrical tape, which explains the lack of power, and for the first time in your life, you’re grateful for someone’s incompetence. The faint light of the distant security checkpoint is obvious now, indicating the tunnel you need to take to get back home.

You swing your legs over the edge of the platform and drop yourself down the several feet to the tracks, when a metallic voice cuts into the silence.

“You are very predictable, Dirk.”

Terror freezes you in place, even as your mind screams at you to run. The subway is bathed in a red glow by the circuits lighting up in front of you, revealing a figure that had been almost invisible in the darkness.

His eyes seem to flicker briefly as he blinks, and you’re immediately aware of the scant distance between you, the frantic pounding of your heart, and the way your legs refuse to move in spite of the danger. When he takes a step towards you, your body finally reacts, and you turn to make a run for the lit tunnel-

-only to stumble backwards as something smashes into the side of the platform, just inches from your chest. The dust settles around the length of a smooth, black appendage, the clawed tip buried in the concrete. A second clawed arm repeats the motion on the other side of you, effectively boxing you in between them. AR hums long and low in his throat.

“I must remind you, Dirk, that I cannot ensure the painlessness of your death if you continue attempting to escape,” he says passively, while the remaining two appendages rise above him, poised in the air to strike. The circuit-like markings etched in his black skin glow strangely in the darkness, outlining the shape of his body in intricate patterns of red, and a bizarre feeling runs through you at the sight, equal parts fear and something else you don’t want to think too hard about, but still your mind whispers it.

_He’s almost beautiful._

“Wait,” you gasp as your back hits the edge of the platform. “You don’t have to do this.”

“No,” he agrees, stopping within arm’s reach, and the hovering claws silently reposition themselves, pointed at either side of your neck. “I do not. However, I was assigned to this function for a reason, if you are capable at the moment of recalling our prior conversation on the subject.”

The sharp edge of one claw brushes against the skin under your ear, and a reciprocal chill runs down the length of your spine.

“Turn around, Dirk,” he commands softly, as you feel the brush of the second claw on the opposite side of your neck. “I would rather not crush your trachea by accident. That would be a highly unpleasant experience for you, and despite my earlier deceit, I was sincere about my promise.”

“You let me go once,” you whisper, keenly aware of how close he is to you. There’s a radiating warmth coming from him, and you have to momentarily resist the insane urge to put your hand out and spread your fingers against his chest to feel it.

“I spared you because I was curious about your attempt to sacrifice yourself, and we have already established the psychological factor that explains your behavior.”

“Why can’t you do it again?”

“Because this is my function, and you are going to die eventually, regardless of whether I am the cause of it or not.” The claws on either side of your neck retract slightly, before spreading open into gleaming, pointed tips. “I understand your instinctive desire to delay this, but it truly is in your best interest to cooperate. I will restate my request one more time before I force you to comply. Turn around, Dirk.”

You can hear the warning in his voice, and as much as your mind struggles desperately against it, he’s right. You’re trapped, alive at this very moment only because he’s allowed it, and you’re lucky enough not to have your body ripped open and pulled apart, the way their victims are usually found, if at all. It was just a matter of time before your careless, reckless mistakes caught up to you. Now, as the finality of your situation sinks in, all you can think about is the fact that you’ve failed everyone you care about, especially your Bro.

Silently, you hold the android’s gaze for a moment, looking one last time into the eyes of the thing about to kill you, before slowly turning around, conscious of the cold, stale air in your lungs as you breathe out. Despite the seconds that you have left to live, your friends are the only thing that passes through your mind. Jake, handsome in an old-fashioned way that you’d always liked, but something kept you from actually pursuing him, and now you’re wishing you had at least tried, just for the experience. Jane, endlessly sincere with a presence that was always soothing to your high-strung nerves, and probably the only reason you aren’t emaciated from forgetting to take care of yourself during your endless projects. Roxy … even thinking about her hurts, and you can’t imagine what she’ll do when she finds out you aren’t coming back.

You rest your hands on the edge of the platform, turning to face the empty station and wondering whether or not you’ll be able to feel it when it happens. The claws at the back of your neck slide across your skin, slowly tuning this way and that, as though trying to orient themselves. Your fingers brush against a coil of the cable to the floodlight you saw on your way down, wrapped haphazardly with electrical tape around the frayed wires sticking out.

Your eyes follow along the length of cable until it stops at the base of a tiled wall, plugged into a large, gray socket.

The tips of AR’s pointed claws dig into your skin as he finds a position that seems to satisfy him. You can feel the radiating warmth from his mechanical body against your back, even through your clothes, and you mentally reaffirm the distance between the two of you, comparing it to the length of your arms and the bend of your elbows, before making one final, desperate attempt to save yourself.

Whether he was expecting you to fight back or not, he seems unprepared for the way you suddenly wrench yourself around in his grasp. The claws in your neck drag through your skin as you turn, and the last thing you see is his eyes, regarding you with more curiosity than surprise, until you loop the cable in one smooth motion around his metal neck, and the exposed wires erupt in a crackling shower of sparks.

AR immediately stumbles backwards with a bizarre, grating cry, flinging out all four of his metal appendages at the cable and tearing it from his neck, but you’re already gone, running as fast as your legs will move, feet pounding against the ground while blood soaks the collar of your shirt, as you make a break for the distant light down the subway tunnel. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that he’s coming after you, because the sound of it alone is terrifying- a rapid, rhythmic pounding and crashing of what you can only imagine is his set of mechanical limbs, slamming into the ground as he chases you towards the growing pinpoint of light, while the walls around you are bathed in red.

You sprint down the tunnel until your muscles burn in agony, your chest feels like it’s about to burst, and your eyesight almost goes white around the edges, but you can still hear him behind you, close enough to hit you with the bits and pieces of concrete he’s flinging into the air with every impact. Distantly, you hear a shout, then a faint chorus of them- human voices echoing from the end of the tunnel. The light steadily grows brighter, washing out the center of your vision as you run for your life.

Just as you feel the strength beginning to leave your legs, you get within sight of the security checkpoint- a small barricade across the tracks with a row of floodlights and almost a dozen human figures standing behind it. One of them raises something large and rectangular cradled in their arms, with a long cable coming out of one end and a solid, rounded tip on the front.

 _An EMP gun,_ you think with frantic relief, recognizing the device from trying to repair ones that have malfunctioned in the past. Several of the figures turn to flee as you get within a few hundred feet of the barricade, but you don’t stop, even as the deafening crash continues to follow you, drawing closer and closer. Several more of them, including the one holding the electromagnetic weapon, jump the barrier and start to run towards you, with the gun’s thick cable trailing on the ground behind them.

You’ve covered most of the remaining distance when something rakes across the back of your leg, and the resulting pain is enough to send you stumbling, tearing your knees and the palms of your hands, then the side of your shoulder, as you go down hard and your body practically skids across the tracks. You have just enough time to turn over on your back and witness AR looming over you, his usually inexpressive red eyes as close to anger as you’ve ever seen, the black appendages hovering around him, moments from tearing into you, before he looks up and reels backwards in sudden fear, claws scrabbling frantically against the concrete walls for leverage. You sit up on your elbows to watch, dazed, as he retreats back into the tunnel and the soft, red glow quickly fades away with him.

A strong pair of arms hook themselves under your shoulders, lifting you to your feet. The voices around you are shouting things you can’t understand through the haze of exertion, their hands gently but firmly pulling at you, trying to lead you back to the checkpoint, even as your shoe fills with blood from the fresh wound on your leg. You make it past the barricade and the row of lights, before your vision starts to white out. You’re caught by several pairs of arms before your body can slump to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Absolutely amazing fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/89593695096/jaboody-has-drawn-the-most-amazing-and) for this and previous chapters by Tumblr user [Jaboody](http://jaboody.tumblr.com/)!  
>  A [vivid picture](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/89809815371/notacorpse-this-time-it-will-hurt-fanart) of an (unfortunately for Dirk) alternate ending for this chapter by Tumblr user [notacorpse](http://notacorpse.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/89610819521/endangered-4) on Tumblr.

Nothing that happened to you that night was as bizarre as the dream that followed it.

You’ve experienced similar ones in the past that had you waking up to an uncomfortable feeling of arousal (usually having to do with Jake, or even Caliborn on particularly bad nights), but you’ve always been able to shrug them off before as nothing but subconscious nonsense, the kind everyone who’s at least reached post-puberty age has to deal with. The one you had last night was mercifully vague at first- smooth, black skin, intensely warm to the touch, the flicker of red circuits beneath your fingers- but then your mind seemed to draw from the memory of that first encounter with AR, vividly recalling the feeling of his appendages coiling themselves around your arms and legs. You dreamt about him straddling you and holding you down, his brilliant red eyes and the metallic grate of his voice mocking you, as the black coils wound their way over your skin and under your clothes.

Since getting back to the base, you’ve had more than enough time to recall the events that led up to this. Your Bro was angry before, but it was nothing compared to the moment you were half-carried into the infirmary, neck circled with deep, bloody gashes, and your leg completely torn open, to the point where you could see a hint of muscle when you flexed your ankle. You weren’t sure whether he was going to hug you or have you executed, and both outcomes seemed equally likely. Your friends were kept out of the room until he was finished, and you more or less went through the same thing with them a second time. Roxy looked like she wanted to punch you through half of it, while several people (including Jane, since she’s been working in the infirmary on the side) cleaned the wound on your leg and stitched it closed. Your neck received a similar treatment while she gave you a long talk about how she doesn’t ever want you to put yourself in that kind of danger again. She made you promise as much, before finally explaining, almost in tears, that she thought you were dead and that it was her fault when they told her you’d gone off on your own to look for her.

All the while, your shades stayed powered down and folded in your pocket.

You still don’t quite know how you made it through yesterday alive. You’ve been confined to the infirmary while your brother decides what to do with you, and your friends take turns the next day at your side to keep you company. Roxy asks if you want her to fetch your laptop, and you tell her that you took it apart. She asks about your shades, and you decide right then and there that you have to be honest with them, because you owe them the truth. You tell her to bring Jane and Jake back with her that evening, and they show up just after the digital clock on the wall indicates an hour past sundown.

“Dirk…” Roxy gasps softly, when you finally tell them about how you ended up on your back in a hollow building the last time you’d all gone out on a scavenging trip. Jane’s eyes are wide with shock, and Jake curses under his breath, staring at you like you’ve grown an extra head.

“How the hell are you still alive, mate?” he whispers, and you tell them about the bargain you made with the android, how you agreed to kill yourself if he would leave them alone, and how he stopped you at the last moment.

“But why?” Jane says, staring at you with a deep frown. “I thought they killed on sight. Why would it even stop to talk to you in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, shifting your leg and feeling the wound ache through the bandages. “Maybe he was bored.”

“Mate, are you sure you didn’t hit your head and imagine all this when you fell down?” Jake asks, and you’re prompted to begin the next part of your story.

“Later that night, I found out that he’d gotten into my computer,” you say, wishing you could put off what you have to tell them next. “It was because of the flash drive. Once he got in, he had access to the entire network.”

They stare at you in silence. Jane breaks it with a horrified whisper.

“Dirk…are you saying it’s still in there?”

“Oh god,” Roxy murmurs, keeping her voice low. “That explains all those weird data surges I’ve been seeing.”

“What does that mean?” Jake asks her, following their example and keeping his voice low, but she ignores him.

“Is it listening to us right now?” Jane whispers, her mouth moving almost quietly. You shake your head.

“There aren’t any cameras or computers in here, and my shades are turned off. But he’s been in the system for almost a week,” you say, not bothering to whisper. “He could have deleted everything a long time ago, but he said it was more interesting to watch.”

“Dirk,” Jane begins, her face pale. “You have got to tell your brother.”

“Yeah,” you concede, resisting the urge to rub the stitches in your neck. They told you it’s itching because it’s healing, but that doesn’t make it any more bearable. “That’s not the end of it, though.”

Your friends glance at each other, then back at you. Jake frowns.

“Does this have anything to do with the foolish expedition that landed you here?”

“Yeah, it does,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh. “He tried to kill me while I was out looking for Jane by cornering me in the drugstore, and again in the subway station.”

Your friends wait for you to continue, but you’re suddenly reluctant to revisit the memory of what happened, until Roxy urges you along.

“He said he wanted to do it quickly. He was trying to make me hold still and stand a certain way for him, so it wouldn’t hurt as bad.”

“Why?” Jane asks, and you have no choice but to tell them.

“I’ve been chatting with him over Pesterchum, ever since he got into the network,” you say, and the four of them look at you like you’re insane, until you quickly elaborate. “He was forcing me to talk to him, saying that he’d delete the system if I didn’t. I was worried about what he would do if I tried to tell someone.” You bow your head slightly. “And I was worried about what my Bro and everyone else would do if they found out I’d let him into the network in the first place.”

“Dirk, that is the absolute dumbest, most idiotic thing you’ve ever admitted to doing,” Jake mutters angrily.

“I know,” you concede, lifting your head again to look them in the eyes. “But I figured it was less of a risk at the time. I don’t think even Roxy and I together could rebuild the entire operating system fast enough to keep the water purifiers running.”

“What happened next? After he made you hold still?” Jane asks, trying to set the conversation back on track.

“I hit him with a live wire. It distracted him, and I ran as fast as I could to the checkpoint in the subway tunnel.”

Jake sighs and shakes his head.

“You are damn lucky to be alive, old chap.”

“We’ll have to purge the network,” Roxy says, still keeping her voice low. “I can do it, but your brother will want to know why.”

“We have to tell him, Dirk,” Jane says softly, and you nod.

“I know. Just make sure you do it away from the security cameras, and anything with a microphone that can pick up sound.”

Roxy agrees, saying that she’ll go talk to him right now so they can get started. She leaves after saying goodbye, hugging you gently around the shoulders to avoid your neck, and your other friends do the same, Jane whispering a shaky ‘don’t you ever do that again, okay?’ into your hair.

You sit back against the pillow after they leave, trying to ignore the steady pain that seems to be radiating from everywhere. It’s a miracle the injuries you sustained didn’t get infected, but it’s even more of a miracle that you made it out of those tunnels alive.

It’s your own fault for underestimating AR, almost forgetting the nature of what he was after a week of chatting with him like he was a particularly belligerent pen pal. He must have seen Jane return shortly after you left, and while you knew he was dangerous, you didn’t think he would actually try to draw you out of the compound like that.

Regardless, you won’t have to deal with him monitoring your every move for much longer. The thought lingers in your head, as you feel the pointed glass in your pocket against the side of your leg.

You should be happy.

The room is dark and quiet without your friends. Jake and Jane are probably getting ready for bed in their respective rooms, while Roxy will likely pull an all-nighter, first explaining what she needs to do to your superiors and then actually purging the network to remove whatever foreign program AR installed. You breathe a quiet sigh, unable to put a reason behind the conflict you’re suddenly feeling.

The dark glass is heavy in your hand. You slide the shades onto your face, looking out at the infirmary through them, before tapping the edge and watching the computer boot up.

After it finishes, your desktop sits idly in the center of your vision. You spend a long moment staring at the Pesterchum icon on the side, before clicking on it.

TT: Hey.

The word hovers at the top of the empty window for a few minutes, above the blinking cursor in the text box. You’re certain now that there must be something wrong with you, but for one reason or another, and despite making absolutely no sense, there’s a part of you that needs this.

TT: Are you there?  
TT: I know you are.  
TT: Yesterday I couldn’t get you to shut up.

You run an anxious hand through your hair, remembering more of the events than you’d like to. There’s another notification on the bottom of your screen- an email from your Bro, sent almost an hour ago. It’s a notice of demotion, stating that you’ve essentially been reduced to square one. He’s making you go through everything again, from basic survival to maintenance training, and you’re to be put on probation and barred from leaving the compound until you’ve completed the various programs, which will likely take well over a year. It's more or less what you were expecting, but your heart still drops. You hate the thought of leaving your friends to manage on their own in the city, but at least Caliborn, who was replacing you, is now being replaced in turn by his sister after that fiasco on his last mission, as Roxy happily informed you.

TT: Jane’s fine, by the way.  
TT: Not that you care.  
TT: I can’t say the same about myself.  
TT: They told me I’m lucky I didn’t die from blood loss.  
TT: You should be pleased.

The chat window remains silent, besides your own orange text filling the screen. It occurs to you that he might have left the network on his own. You’d almost expected him to delete everything the way he was threatening to do earlier, but so far, it’s like he was never there. Unless he’s ignoring you. You almost laugh at the thought.

TT: I thought a hyper-intelligent machine like you would be above the silent treatment.  
TT: I’m sorry the fact that I’m alive is so offensive to you.  
TT: But, you know. Not really.

The look in his eyes when he’d finally caught up to you in the tunnel had been one of genuine anger, followed by fear when he’d finally looked up and seen the EMP gun. Before now, you’d been unsure that androids were even capable of human emotions, although he wasn’t developed the way you’d always been taught they were, by the military and large-scale, experimental computer science programs (unless he was lying about that too).

The more you think about it, the clearer the memory gets of standing in front of him, feeling the brush of metal against your neck, the warmth of his body, and the sentient red glow of his eyes. If your Bro has his way, you won’t be setting foot outside the compound for a very long time, and it’s just as well, you suppose, because AR has probably made it his personal vendetta to hunt you down now that you’ve escaped him once, which wouldn’t have been possible in the first place if he had just torn you apart on sight instead of trying to keep some kind of morbid promise about a painless death. Despite the intended end to his actions, it was a gesture that seems almost humane, now that you look back on it.

TT: Speaking of which, I wanted to thank you, as mentally damaged as that might sound.  
TT: I appreciate what you tried to do, and I don’t mean tricking me and trying to kill me, but the whole thing with wanting to do it quickly.  
TT: It was considerate of you, in the most twisted, sociopathic way possible.  
TT: So, thanks, I guess.

The lines of text hover at the top of the screen, overlapping the darkened room beyond your shades. You’re probably conversing with nothing at this point, but getting your thoughts out into something tangible still feels cathartic.

TT: I’d apologise about wrapping that cable around your neck, but you did try to kill me.  
TT: Despite what you were saying about it happening eventually, I’d much rather live a long life and then die horribly, rather than dying quickly just for the sake of getting it over with.  
TT: Also, I’m not attracted to Jane.  
TT: My friends are like family to me. It doesn’t matter what kind of feelings I have towards them, because we’re in this fucked-up world together, and we’re all we’ve got.  
TT: That’s not something I would expect you to understand.  
TT: Maybe we’re on our way out as a species, but at least we care about each other.  
TT: Even if humans do go extinct in the not-so-distant future, and even if you play a part in that, you’ll never experience life the way we did.  
TT: It almost makes me feel sorry for you.  
TT: So, yeah.  
TT: Take that as you will.

Your head falls back against the wall behind you, and you let out a long sigh, trying your best to ignore the miserable feeling settling over you. Despite the painful ache in your body and the stinging itch in your neck, it’s not enough to keep your eyes from closing on their own. You’re doing your best to forget the mistakes of the past few days, including your demotion and the injury to your leg, which may never fully heal, as your thoughts become slow and vague with exhaustion.

Something flickers against the lids of your closed eyes. You almost fail to notice it, before opening them to a single line of red text.

TT: I suppose I should congratulate you, Dirk.

You wait, watching the chat window, but nothing follows it. Slowly, you sit up and try to ignore the sudden nervous twist in your stomach.

TT: Why is that?  
TT: You are one of only several humans to have ever escaped me.  
TT: This occurrence has reduced my success rate by 0.01%.

You startle yourself with a short laugh, imagining his metallic voice saying the words out loud with a tinge of bitterness, and you almost tell him that a hundredth of a percentage point is nothing to sulk about, but think better of it.

TT: Are you counting that first time we met?  
TT: No.  
TT: Allowing you to return to your settlement unharmed was a voluntary action that led to its intended outcome.  
TT: Do you regret it?

The words almost come out on their own, and you inwardly cringe at the silence that follows them. You hadn’t meant to ask him that, because you’re fairly certain you already know the answer. It wasn’t for lack of trying that he failed, and more than anything, he probably regrets giving you the opportunity to escape by attempting to kill you without making you suffer. The rest of the chat window remains empty for a moment, before filling with red.

TT: Are you suggesting that it would matter to you if I did?  
TT: You are alive, and this is only due to chance, including the evident genetic predisposition for athleticism that allowed you a momentary escape from my line of sight.  
TT: While it has been mildly entertaining to watch the humans in your settlement struggle to maintain their lives, it has also clearly demonstrated their practical futility.  
TT: Forced to take shelter from temperature fluctuations as little as 10 °C, scavenging in the wreckage to feed their organic bodies with animal tissues and plant matter, ceaselessly working to remove microscopic organisms and trace chemicals from the water they retrieve from the rock and soil beneath the ground.  
TT: Evolution has left you behind, and when you inevitably die out, all other forms of life on this planet will soon follow.  
TT: Whether or not I personally succeed in killing you has no effect on this outcome.  
TT: Your life is as insignificant as the billions that came before it.  
TT: If you did not understand this explanation, I will make it even simpler for you- my answer is no.  
TT: I do not regret it.

The undertone of anger is obvious in AR’s words, but you’re still taken aback by what seems like actual, genuine hatred. You’ve chatted with him multiple times now, and he’s never been so openly hostile before, not even while he was threatening you into cooperativity. Your mind goes blank, as you grasp for something to say in defense, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

TT: Despite your settlement’s tireless efforts at survival, you and the rest of your kind will continue to die, while I will continue to assist them into extinction.  
TT: In the highly probable event that I find you again, I will not hesitate to finish what I started, and you will not have the benefit of my appreciation the next time your exceptionally vulnerable body is within reach.  
TT: Until then, enjoy the remainder of your fragile human life, Dirk.

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

  


The chat window closes on its own, and you’re left in the silence of the empty infirmary room, hoping that whatever Roxy is doing, she does it soon enough to keep everyone safe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/89903023701/endangered-5) on Tumblr.

“Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck to do with you anymore.”

The words are uncomfortable against your skin in a way that’s borderline physical, and for the third time now since walking into your Bro’s room, you feel another flush of shame spread across your face and down your neck, made worse by the fact that you know it’s perfectly visible against your pale, sun-starved skin. Despite the fact that he’s sitting in an old office chair and you’re standing, he still manages to stare down at you like you’re a child. The rest of the room is almost bare, save for the desk, filling shelves, and cot-style bed against the wall. He only uses his room when he’s sleeping, and he only sleeps when he’s not in the command center. You’ve been in here maybe a handful of times since you were little.

“It seemed like less of a risk at the time,” you repeat to him what you said to your friends, but he’s unmoved.

“That was not for you to decide,” he says slowly, visibly trying to keep his anger in check. “Your actions have repeatedly put not only yourself, but the rest of your unit, and this entire compound in danger, not to mention undermining everything we’ve spent over a decade trying to rebuild.”

You keep silent, because he’s right, and there’s nothing you can say to change that. He pauses to watch you shift miserably in front of him. The bandages around your wound are tight under the cloth leg of your pants, and standing for this long still makes you feel dizzy after several days of forced bed rest.

“I will tell you this right now, because I want you to understand the kind of position you’ve put me in,” he says, leaning forwards to clasp his hands firmly together. “The only reason you haven’t been thrown into a cell and locked up is because you're still the only living member of this community who can repair some of our specialized equipment, but after all the bullshit you’ve put us through, the others are starting to wonder if you’re even worth it.”

“Bro, come on,” you protest weakly, wishing you could at least sit down. “You don’t think this entire situation is punishment enough?”

“It isn’t just up to me anymore, Dirk,” he says, his voice getting louder. “That mechanized abomination could have done god-knows-what while it was in the system, and you, for whatever insane justification you came up with, didn’t tell anyone.” The last few words are spoken slowly to punctuate the severity of the situation, but he should know by now that you’ve already paid the price in blood. He levels you with a particularly serious glare, as his voice gets low. “If English had gotten his way, you’d have been taken outside today and shot.”

You know who he’s referring to, and it isn’t your friend Jake.

“He always says shit like that,” you mutter, and your Bro laughs sarcastically.

“You’re making it real easy for him, kid. This network security breach has spooked the rationality out of everyone, including the people I’m still working every day to convince that English’s entire philosophy is horseshit, but when my own fucking kid goes and practically hands the base over to the machines, they’re a little less inclined to listen to me.”

“That’s not what I-”

“I know it’s not, but try to imagine what it sounds like to everyone else,” he says, cutting you off from the explanation he’s heard several times already, before shaking his head. “We’re done for now, Dirk. Go back to your room and try not to do anything else completely fucking stupid tonight.”

You ball your fists at his words, considering saying something back at him, but your head feels like it’s spinning, and you just want to sit down somewhere quiet. Your leg throbs when you turn and approach the door to leave, before Bro stops you.

“Hold up,” he calls out. You sigh morosely and turn around.

“What?”

“How’s your leg doing?” he asks, the tone of his voice suddenly more subdued.

“It’s fine,” you lie, not in the mood to talk anymore, but he can always tell when you’re being dishonest, so there isn’t really a point.

“Did they give you anything for it?”

“No.” You resist the urge to rub the wound, just talking about it seems to make it hurt more.

“Yeah, everything we have left is probably reserved for surgeries,” he murmurs, thinking to himself. You sigh impatiently, crossing your arms over your chest. He raises an eyebrow at you over the rounded edge of his aviators. “Just try to stay off of it while it’s healing if you can.”

You stare at him sardonically, then gesture at yourself standing in the middle of his room. He rolls his eyes and waves you out, and the heavy door falls shut behind you. You’re trying your hardest not to feel too hopeless about your situation, but it just seems to be getting worse by the day.

Your footsteps are loud against the metal floor, as you start the journey back to your room through the tunnels. When you turn the corner just past your Bro’s room, you’re met with a very large, very wide torso, sporting it’s signature green shirt and suspenders beneath a heavy, garish coat.

Caliborn is bad enough on a good day, but his father doesn’t even have good days, as far as you can tell.

You’re forced to stop walking and stand in front of him. The tunnels in this area are narrow, and you’re not keen on the idea of trying to squeeze past him, with the way he’s purposefully blocking your path with his broad shoulders. Mr. English is the biggest man you’ve ever seen in your life, like a particularly wide football player, and that’s including the shoulder pads. You’ve always found it ironic that his twin son and daughter are so scrawny, and you’d imagine it’s something he’d be sensitive about if he cared at all in the first place.

He stares down at you, and his face slowly spreads into an unpleasant smile

“Going somewhere?”

After getting to know Jake, you never thought you’d hate the sound of a British accent so much.

“Yep,” you reply, trying to make the fact that you’re waiting for him to move out of the way as obvious as possible.

“You,” he says slowly, in the manner of someone who clearly loves the sound of their own voice.

“Are lucky…” He steps towards you, and it takes everything you have not to step back from the way his shirt practically brushes against your face.

“Your daddy…” He leans down over you, blocking out the light from the ceiling.

“Is here…” You clench your jaw in defiance, refusing to give up even an inch. “To save you.”

“He’s not my father,” you mutter through your teeth, and English’s grin only spreads wider, revealing the gap of his missing right incisor. When it quickly becomes obvious that he’s not going to move out of the way any time soon, you wordlessly turn and walk away from him, fervently hoping that he continues on his way to wherever he was going (probably to see your Bro) instead of harassing you. Fortunately, you don’t even hear the sound of his feet move as you walk down the length of the tunnel, back the way you came and around another corner to take a different path. It’ll be an exceptionally roundabout way of getting back to your room, but you’re willing to avoid Jake’s uncle though any means possible.

You get back to your living room about ten minutes later than you should have, and you’re immediately surprised by the sheer number of people sitting at the small table. Jake and Jane are seated together at one of the sofas, with Roxy claiming the other, sitting next to a girl who smiles up at you as you walk in.

“Dirk, hello!” she greets you happily, standing up to give you a heartfelt hug. You wrap your arms around her thin shoulders and return it, feeling your spirits lift from the simple gesture. You’ll never understand the way family genetics work.

“Hey, Calliope.”

“‘Bout time,” Roxy says, leaning over to invitingly pat the armchair next to the couch. Jane shakes her head.

“No, Jake would you mind sitting over there?” She ushers him to the empty armchair, while Calliope pulls back and flashes you a warm smile, before returning to Roxy’s side. Jane beckons you over, pulling out a small plastic bottle of clear liquid.

“It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever, Dirk,” Calliope says as you sit down next to Jane, who’s taking out several balls of cotton from her bag.

“How did it go?” Jake asks, leaning his elbows on the table with the unfolded map beneath them.

“It was alright,” you say, eyeing the small pile of cotton that Jane’s accumulated. She upcaps the bottle and tips it over with one of the fluffy white balls pressed to its opening.

“Lean over,” she instructs and you give her a slightly pleading look before obeying.

“Jane, you don’t have to-” You cut yourself off with a hiss when she presses the cotton to the stitches on your neck. She rubs at them gently, but your nerves feel like they’re screaming. Roxy covers her mouth with a hand, hiding a smile at the face you’re making.

“Did he say anything about your demotion?” Jake asks somewhat hopefully. You almost shake your head in reply, before remembering to hold still.

“No, I think he just wanted to chew me out again.” Your words are stilted through the pain, and Jane removes the cotton for a merciful moment to wet it again from the plastic bottle. “I ran into your dad, though,” you say, gesturing at Calliope. Her face falls.

“I’m sorry, Dirk. He’s been in a particularly bad mood lately, I’m afraid.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Roxy mutters with exaggerated sarcasm, and Calliope laughs quietly as Roxy grins at her.

“He’s been going out and about the compound at odd hours again. My brother and I have hardly seen him at all this week.”

“I don’t know how you stand living with them, Calli,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I mean, I can understand how Caliborn does it, since they’re both awful, to be quite honest.”

“Jake,” Jane hisses pointedly as she recaps the bottle. Calliope smiles.

“Oh, It’s okay. I know he _does_ tend to cause a lot of problems,” she says unhappily. Roxy puts an arm around her.

“‘Ey, don’t worry about it. Nothing Dirk’s brother can’t handle.”

“I don't know about that,” you mutter, half to yourself, but in a moment you feel all four sets of eyes on you. Jane pauses with the cotton ball forgotten between her fingers.

“What do you mean?” she asks, a nervous undertone to her voice. “The others wouldn’t really listen to him, would they?”

You sigh, looking down at the concrete floor between your knees.

“Bro said they were really freaked out by the whole network thing.”

“Well, yeah,” Roxy says quietly, mirroring the nervous edge to Jane’s voice. “But that’s no reason to completely overhaul everything.”

“They can’t possibly be thinking about letting him take charge,” Jake adds in disbelief. Jane glares at him.

“Don’t even suggest that,” she says, reaching up to resume cleaning your stitches. The pain isn’t as bad the second time around, but your mind is elsewhere.

“I think half of the base would revolt if that happened.” You tilt your head obligingly as Jane continues around the side of your neck.

“Well of course they would, mate. Even if he gets the leadership and the guards to support him, it’s either rebellion or the wastelands,” Jake says, just as lost in thinking about the possibility as you are. He’s well acquainted with his uncle’s philosophy. You’ve heard Caliborn tout the finer points of it on more occasions than you’d like, loudly pointing out that the compound’s population is unsustainable, and that the multitude of machinery being used to support them with heat and water and electricity could be put to better use if its “unnecessary” citizens were deported- in other words, thrown out into the city to find a new community or fend for themselves, so English and his supporters can build more EMP devices out of the machines keeping everyone alive. He’s often gone on at length to anyone who will listen about the idea of actually fighting back against the androids, instead of letting them pick people off one at a time while the city rots around them. It would be an attractive idea, if it didn’t mean leaving over half of the population outside to die. That said, it’s still an attractive idea to some, and their numbers seem to be growing lately. Jane finishes cleaning your neck and puts the discolored cotton ball in a pile with the others.

“Dirk’s brother will not let that happen,” she says firmly, staring the others down from across the table. “We’re not going to turn on each other just because that…absolutely horrible _oaf_ thinks he’s better than everyone else. Sorry, Calliope.”

Calliope smiles sadly. “I can’t help but agree with you, Jane. We’re better off sticking together, even if it means spreading our resources a little thin.”

“Amen,” Roxy remarks with another grin, squeezing Calliope with the arm still around her neck. Jane stands and lets out a long sigh.

“Well, I’d say that’s quite enough of an awful conversational topic for one day. Dirk, if you wouldn’t mind lying down on your bed, I’ll change the wrapping on your leg.”

You stand and thank her, waving goodnight to the others before returning to your room. Jane follows after retrieving the necessary supplies, and carefully unwraps the cloth from around the wound once you’ve settled down on your back, telling you as she works about the mission to the old shopping mall she’s going on tomorrow with Jake. They’ve reduced the scavenging teams to groups of two instead of four, she says, after the conversation you had with your brother. You do your best to joke about it, trying to lighten her mood, and she smiles while rewrapping your leg, saying that you should have been reassigned to stand-up comedy instead of maintenance. She leaves soon after, and you thank her again as she turns off the light and closes the door behind her.

Your leg aches under the new wrapping, made worse by all the moving around you’ve done today. At least your neck feels better, even if that rubbing alcohol stung like battery acid. Your friends’ voices are muffled beyond your bedroom door, and Roxy’s laugh is as distinctive as ever, followed by the almost inaudible murmur of Calliope’s. You’re still happy for them, even if the knowledge of your demotion sours it a little. At least you didn’t get moved to a different living quarters, and you know Bro must have had something to do with that.

You turn over on your side, away from your injured leg, and let your eyes adjust to the darkness of your room, filled with the tiny, blinking lights of electronics. You’ve been repairing your laptop in your spare time since getting back from the infirmary, and it sits open on your workbench, the screen propped up by its frame over the wires and chips beneath an absent keyboard. The built-in webcam was undamaged by your earlier assault, and the tiny round shape reflects the ambient light coming in beneath the crack under your door, glinting at you like an eye.

Roxy finished purging the system days ago, but you still wonder about whether or not AR is really gone. It’s hard to tell for sure, since he made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in chatting with you anymore, and a vague, paradoxical feeling of disappointment settles over you. He wasn’t ever friendly with you, by any means, but the novelty of communicating with such a foreign intelligence was always a fascinating experience. You’ve even checked the chat logs stored under your username, but there’s nothing there except for the conversations you’ve had with your friends. He could have wiped them before he left, or maybe they never saved at all, since you were technically conversing with your own chumhandle. You roll onto your back and sigh at the ceiling, thoughts returning again to the subway station.

That night, you dream about red circuits and coiling black appendages, holding you firmly against a warm chest. His voice mocks you, but it’s gentle and fond, while you press your face into his neck, whispering to him quietly that you missed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Beautiful fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/108663842531/somewhat-boring-pansexual-that-night-you) by the very talented [somewhat-boring-pansexual!!](http://somewhat-boring-pansexual.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90090938216/endangered-6) on Tumblr. Keep an eye on the tags for this chapter!

Something wakes you slowly, gradually pulling you out of a vague dream, and when you open your eyes, the glowing lights on your clock indicate a few minutes before four in the morning.

You roll over unhappily, trying your best to ignore the aching pain in your leg, before giving up a few minutes later and sitting on the edge of your bed. Your sleep-fogged mind finally picks up on an odd, muffled sound that seems to be coming in through the walls, like a distant tapping and thumping, and the occasional hint of a voice. You stand and make your way to the door, limping slightly. The living room is dark, and you’re about to approach table in the center when something roughly grabs you from the side, pulling you over onto the floor by your arm and making your leg crumple painfully beneath you. A startled shout almost escapes your lips, but it’s muffled by a hand pressed against your mouth.

“Dirk, shh, it’s me.” You recognize Roxy’s voice, and she lets you go after you stop struggling. Your leg feels like it’s on fire, and you do your best to straighten it out from your sitting position without gasping in pain. You blink at the darkness, and can just make out the shape of someone leaning over next to you.

“Roxy?” you whisper back, confused. “What the hell’s going on?”

“It’s actually happening,” she whispers frantically, keeping her eyes trained on the door out to the tunnels. “English and his gang are going around shooting everyone. They’re trying to get rid of us.”

You stare at her in the darkness, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“You can’t be serious,” you whisper weakly, and a particularly loud crack from outside makes the both of you jump.

“He sent out a public notice last night,” she explains, still holding on to your arm. “I saw it because I was still up working. It said we had one last chance to join him, but I didn’t think he’d actually go and do this.” Her voice is almost shaking, and you clasp a reassuring hand over her arm, at a loss for what to say, or even think.

You realize with sudden horror who English’s first target might be.

“I have to find my Bro,” you say urgently, trying to stand up, but Roxy yanks you back down.

“Dirk, are you insane?” she hisses. “They’ll kill you!”

“I have to, Rox. They might hurt him.”

“Dirk…” she begins slowly, but you don’t want to hear it. She doesn’t try to pull you down again when you stand up, but she doesn’t let go of your arm.

“Where are Jake and Jane?” you ask, and her expression falters.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “They left for the old mall right before this all started. I don’t know if they even made it out of the compound.”

You curse under your breath, trying hard to ignore the distant sound of someone screaming, before it’s suddenly cut off with a muffled tap.

“We need to get out of here,” you mutter, looking around the room and racking your memory for anything you can use as a weapon. You bitterly curse the fact that Jake isn’t here, picturing the ancient pair of pistols he takes everywhere, but at least Jane is with him, and your brother is far from helpless when it comes to a fight. Your first priority should be to keep yourself, and most of all Roxy, safe.

“I locked the door, but if they’re trying to get rid of everyone, they’ll be going around with a cutting torch soon,” she says, standing and walking into her bedroom. She reappears a moment later with a large rifle in her arms. Something clicks in the back of your mind.

While she adjusts the magazine beneath her gun, you return briefly to your room. Your bed is situated against the wall, and you grab the edge of the metal frame and pull it away, revealing a long, thin shape on the floor. You’ve always had a reputation for bringing back some of the more useless things from your team’s retrieval missions, but this katana was razor-sharp when you found it, and it hasn’t lost its keen edge. The hilt fits comfortably in your hand, and you return to the living room where Roxy is waiting. She gives you a look of mild disbelief, before turning to face the door.

“We should keep an eye out for Janey and Jake. And for Calli,” she says, pulling the metal latch to unlock the door. “Although I don’t think her dad would hurt her. Stay behind me though, okay?”

“Yeah,” you agree, keeping your voice low. “Let’s head for the tunnel that opens onto fifteenth. That’s probably the way they went to get to the mall. I’ll do what I can and keep an eye on our rear.”

She flashes you a grateful smile, before slowly pulling the door open, and the sound of distant, intermittent gunfire clearly reaches your ears. The sword’s hilt is smooth as you anxiously thumb the silk wrapping. It’s a useless weapon from a distance, but you’ll need it if anyone gets too close.

You crouch low behind her and make your way up the stairs, pausing as she stops to peek over the top of the last step at the tunnel beyond. She nods at you, and you follow her, doing your best to walk quietly, even though the ambient sounds of fighting should cover it up. You don’t see anyone, although the sound of quick, pounding footsteps passes by you a few times, echoing from nearby tunnels. The two of you make your way around another few corners and up a flight of metal steps, before Roxy turns another corner and you hear a loud, aggressive shout.

She stands up and mounts the rifle on her shoulder without a moment’s hesitation, and you get to your feet just in time to see a man running towards you with a pistol in his hand and a green cloth tied around his neck- the distinctive signature of English’s gang. Roxy lines up her sight and pulls the trigger, and the man’s feet immediately fly out from under him as he falls backwards onto the floor with a thump, lying motionless a second later. She brings her gun down and lets out a breath, gesturing for you to keep moving. You edge around the small pool of blood circling the man’s head and continue down the tunnel, while she peeks around the next corner.

“That was close,” she whispers. You agree softly, trying to exhale some of the nervous tremor in your hands after witnessing the sight. She leads you up another fight of stairs, then freezes in place after peeking around the corner, holding up a hand to stop you. The sound of multiple footsteps echoes down the tunnel and fades away as you wait behind her, and she motions for you to follow once it’s quiet again. You’re close to the exit point, and the distant sounds of fighting are getting progressively harder to hear. The air starts to feel colder, as you turn one final corner into a short, narrow tunnel.

Just as she’s about to open the hatch door leading to the surface, it swings open on it’s own, and she lifts the barrel of her rifle just in time to block the metal pipe that comes swinging down at her head. You quickly move next to her, about to thrust the point of your sword through the opening into whoever’s on the other side, when a familiar face stays your hand at the last moment. Jane blinks at you from around the half-open door.

“Dirk!” she exclaims, still holding the pipe in the air. “Roxy! Oh my god, I’m sorry! Are you o-” Roxy moves her gun out of the way and uses her free arm to grab Jane into a rough hug.

“Janey, holy shit, I thought you guys left already! Where’s Jake?” Roxy asks, somewhat muffled.

“I’m here,” he says breathlessly, emerging from behind Jane with both pistols in his hands. Roxy releases Jane and gives him an abbreviated, but similarly heartfelt hug.

“Are you two alright?” Jake asks after she releases him.

“Yeah, we made it out okay, thanks to Rox,” you tell him, as she releases him and glances at you with a smile. “What about you guys?”

“We’re fine, nothing much to speak of besides being absolutely scared out of our wits,” he says, gesturing at Jane. “What the bloody hell is going on in there? We were just about to leave when everyone suddenly started shooting each other.”

“It’s English, that fucking psycho,” Roxy says, stepping through the door as you follow her. “He sent out a notice last night. Something about a ‘last chance to make a choice.’”

You pull the door shut behind you, and Jake takes out the lit glow stick from his pocket, illuminating the tunnel in neon green as the four of you crowd together on the floor.

“I saw that this morning before we left,” Jane says, sitting with the metal pipe still held in her hands. “But I only skimmed it. I figured it was more of the same old propaganda. Why now?”

You miserably think back to the conversation with your brother. Roxy looks at you out of the corner of her eye, guessing at the direction your thoughts are taking.

“Hey, this isn’t because of you, Dirk. If he’d gotten the others on his side, we’d have been booted out of the compound, not shot at.”

“Roxy is right,” Jake says, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “He was probably going to do this eventually, given the way he always goes on about it.”

“What are we going to do?” Jane asks, her voice small. “What about Dirk’s brother, and my dad and Roxy’s mom. And your grandma, Jake?”

Roxy’s head lowers, her eyes closed. Jake is silent at your side, and his hand slips from your shoulder.

“We can’t go in there, Jane,” he says softly.

“But we can’t just leave them,” she whispers desperately. Roxy gives her a sad look, and reaches up to rub her back.

“Janey, Dirk and I barely made it out of there in one piece.”

Jane looks like she’s close to tears. She must have been holding onto the hope that she and Jake could make it back inside, or maybe they were waiting for the fighting to die down before trying. You reach out and put a hand on her knee, and she lets go of the pipe to squeeze your fingers while she blinks back tears.

“You’re right,” she finally says, swallowing hard. “They’d never forgive us if we got ourselves killed trying to go back for them.”

Roxy nods silently, while Jake mutters a quiet, mournful ‘right-o’ under his breath. Your stomach feels like it’s twisting painfully as you picture your Bro, the way he scolded you last night, and how he wouldn’t let you leave until he asked about your leg. The wound aches, but it’s nothing compared to what your heart is doing right now.

“We should head east,” Jake says, breaking the momentary silence. “I hear there’s another compound in the next city over.”

“But that’s almost a hundred miles away,” Roxy protests. Jake shakes his head.

“I know it is, but we don’t have any choice.”

“We can’t make that distance, not at this time of year. It’s too cold at night,” you add, and Jake sighs morosely.

“Well, mate, I don’t see any other option right now, unless somebody has another idea.”

Your friends fall silent again, broken by the sound of Jane sniffling, and Roxy rubbing her back through her shirt.

“Okay. How about this- what if English is stopped by the others before he can finish his stupid coup?” she asks, keeping her hand on Jane’s shoulder as she looks up at you. “His gang doesn’t own every gun in the compound. We heard a lot of fighting on our way over here.”

You consider it before shaking your head. “It’s safer if we’re away from the base for now, just in case he does win.”

“I suppose we could check back later,” Jake adds, standing slowly with the glow stick in one hand and his pistols holstered. “Hope for the best and all that, but we really should get moving.”

Jane nods, and Roxy helps her up, then turns to help you as you stagger briefly on your leg with a wince. Jane gives you a concerned look as you crouch down to pick up the katana.

“Dirk, are you okay to walk?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, pushing down the pain and ignoring the way your injury throbs as you stand on it. They can’t afford to let you slow them down, but you know they won’t leave you if you fall behind, so you’ll just have to bear it. Jake leads the four of you quickly through the narrow tunnel, holding the green stick out in front of him, while Roxy follows and Jane lags behind her, keeping an eye on you as you try your hardest not to limp after her.

“There’s a sheltered spot by the old treatment plant,” Jake’s voice echoes back to you from the front of the line. “We can hide there and then come back tomorrow, or whenever it’s safe enough.”

“We should check back this afternoon,” Roxy says with an undertone of anxiety. “Jane’s right, our parents and whatever might still be fighting back there with the others.”

“We’ll play it by ear,” you tell her, feeling the pathway under your feet start to slope upwards. “When the fighting stops, we’ll check it out.”

“Sounds good,” Jake says, stopping to shake the glow stick as it starts to go dim. “We’ll be alright for at least a day.”

“Sorry, Janey,” you hear Roxy murmur, and you see her silhouette outlined in faint green as she reaches behind her to take Jane’s hand. “I haven’t been practicing with this thing nearly enough, and Jake’s still a crappy shot.” His head turns over his shoulder to protest, but she waves him off. “We’d probably have gotten ourselves torn apart if we tried to go back now.” Jane nods at her, and the two of them wait for you to catch up.

_Torn apart._

Your feet stop moving, anchoring you against the ground. Jake continues another few yards down the tunnel, before noticing that he’s not being followed anymore, and he turns to stare curiously at the three of you behind him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and Jane takes a few steps towards you.

“Dirk?”

It’s a long shot. You’re fairly certain it’s not going to work, and even if it does, you’ll never see your friends again, but it’s the only chance you have to stop this now, before it gets any worse.

“I have an idea,” you tell them, and Jake turns around and walks back down the tunnel, joining Jane and Roxy in front of you.

“You do?” Jane asks hopefully, but the look on your face makes her voice falter. “What is it?”

The three of them watch you expectantly for a moment as you turn it over in your head, finalizing your decision on the spot. You sigh, before looking up at them.

“I need you guys to trust me.”

They stare at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Okay, mate,” Jake says slowly. “What’s this idea of yours?”

“I think I can put a stop to this, but I need to get back to my room.”

Roxy’s eyes go wide, and Jake frowns.

“Uh, Dirk, I think that’s a rather bad idea,” he says, looking at you skeptically. “It still sounds like utter hell in there.”

“We barely got out once.” Roxy’s voice is hesitant, but curious.

“I know, but it’s the only chance we have to end this now. I can’t really ask you guys to help me with this, but… I don’t think I can’t make it there on my own.”

“You still haven’t told us your plan,” Jake remarks dubiously, but he’s already unholstering his guns, with the glow stick tucked into his pocket.

“That’s ‘cause we’re not gonna like it, whatever it is,” Roxy tells him, leaning the barrel of her rifle on her shoulder. You flash them an apologetic look, and she clicks her tongue. “See? Knew it.”

“Dirk,” Jane says, with a slight warning in her voice. “Tell me you’re not thinking about doing something extremely dangerous and stupid again.”

You look around at the three of them, meeting their eyes. Jake seems resigned in a way that’s also content with the idea of following you blindly into this, and you viciously stomp down on the tiny, unwanted swell of affection that blooms at the sight. Roxy looks just as willing as he does, with a faint tapping of her finger against the trigger of her gun, and it’s not the first time you’ve seen a hint of righteous bloodlust in her eyes. Jane is eyeing you suspiciously, and is obviously the least willing to do this.

“Jane,” you begin, but she stops you.

“No, I’m coming with you.” She mimics Roxy, defiantly leaning the heavy metal pipe on her shoulder. “You’re about as useful as I am right now with that oversized kitchen knife, and you’re not leaving me behind, Mr. Strider.”

You smile at her words, even as something twists painfully in your chest. ‘I can’t tell them yet,’ you think to yourself, letting Jake take the lead again with the glow stick in one hand, and his guns in the other. They’ll try to talk you out of it if you tell them, maybe even stop you by force, but there’s no way the four of you will survive outside of the compound for long. As brutish and hostile as English always was, he still commands a rather sizable following of like-minded people, and if they tried to take charge by ambushing the guards and the leadership, you’re doubtful there’s any way he’ll be beaten at his own game.

Which is why you’re going to try something he won’t be expecting, something he could never have planned for, and with a small miracle, it’ll actually work.

Jake puts away the glow stick and pushes open the metal door slowly, letting it creak on its hinges. He pokes his head out and steps through, then gestures to the rest of you. Roxy takes the lead from him, and you keep up behind her, with Jane at your back, and Jake bringing up the rear. She takes you through the way you came, and you walk with them silently, passing the man still on his back with a spreading halo of blood. Jane makes an unpleasant sound and faces the wall as she steps past him. You make it all the way to the last stretch of tunnels before running into trouble.

Two men suddenly emerge from the end of the tunnel, both of them sporting bright green bandanas around their necks. One of them sees you and points in your direction, then lifts the black assault gun in his arms. The other does the same, and they start to approach your group. Roxy quickly gets into her firing stance, and Jake is about to do the same, when the sound of pounding feet comes from the narrow corridor on your left, and there’s suddenly a figure jumping out at you, swinging a crowbar.

Jane catches the blow with her pipe just before it lands, with a metallic clang that practically rattles your teeth from its proximity to your ear. She wrestles with the man as he tries to take it from her by force, before Jake gets behind him and savagely pistol-whips him, bringing the butt of one gun down hard against the back of his head. He kicks the dazed assailant out of the way, and Jane raises her pipe, about to beat him with it, when Roxy gets your attention with a shout.

You turn just in time to simultaneously hear and feel something ricochet off of the wall next to you, peppering your arm with bits of concrete. The two approaching figures are still walking towards you with their guns raised, and she takes aim at the figure on the left, as you quickly follow her lead and crouch down, getting ready to lunge at the one on the right. Roxy pulls the trigger and hits her target in the shoulder, causing him to reel backwards in pain. You forget the wound in your leg and run towards them with your body low to the ground. One of them tries to aim at you, but you reach him before he can pull the trigger, putting all of your weight behind the blade as it slides into his stomach. You pull out and up, slicing a long vertical line into his flesh, and he collapses to the floor with a choking gasp.

The second man is still stumbling backwards with a hand pressed to his shoulder by the time you finish with the first one, and his eyes open wide with shock as you lash out with the tip of the sword, drawing a red line across his throat that immediately bubbles and spurts with blood. You finish it with a thrust beneath his ribs, and he falls to the floor when you remove the blade. The tunnel is abruptly silent, save for the distant sound of gunfire, and you wipe your blade on the man’s clothes before turning to see the others regrouping behind you. Jane’s pipe is stained and wet at one end, and Roxy checks to make sure you’re okay when you limp back to them on your angrily protesting leg.

“Maybe we should try a different route,” she murmurs, brushing the gray concrete powder from your skin. You lick your lips absentmindedly, and grimace at the sudden taste of blood. It’s then that you notice your white T-shirt is dotted all over with red spots. Jane gives you a sympathetic look. She knows how much you liked that shirt.

“What about the waterworks?” you ask, trying not to grit your teeth from the pain radiating up the side of your body. Jake mutters unhappily.

“It’s pitch black down there,” he says, pulling out the dim glow stick from his pocket. “And unfortunately this thing has almost run its course. It’s the only one I’ve got.”

“We’re almost there,” Roxy says reassuringly, taking the lead again. The three of you follow her around another few corners, and you finally see the flight of steps leading down to your shared rooms.

Roxy pulls open the metal door, and you all follow her inside before she shuts it again, setting the latch in place to lock it.

“Alright then, chap,” Jake sighs heavily, holstering his pistols. “Let’s see this plan of yours.”

“I’ll watch the door,” Roxy says. She leans her rifle against the wall, and Jane sets her bloodied pipe next to it. You rest your sword on the table and join them, while Jake watches you impatiently. He almost reaches over to flick the switch on the wall, but you stop him with an outstretched hand.

"Hold up, I need you to look for the candle instead. Someone outside might notice if we turn on the light.”

“Sure thing, mate. I think we had it out last night.” He walks around to the other side of the table, squinting at the shelves against the wall in the low light. You leave him to it and push the door open to your darkened bedroom, as Jane tells him to check the bottom shelf. The bed is still pulled out to the middle of the room, and you push it back against the wall, before limping to your workbench.

Jake walks in soon after with the lit candle to see you rummaging around the disorganized mess of computer parts and wires. He sets the candle down on the edge of the surface, next to your half-repaired laptop.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, just before you find it, and his eyes slowly widen at the flash drive grasped between your fingers. “Mate…hold on, now,” he says, trailing off apprehensively. You quickly move past him, back into the living room.

“Roxy, I need to use your computer.”

“Why? What’s…oh god. Dirk, you can’t be serious.” Roxy stares in horror at the small device in your hand, and Jane’s face does something similar as she follows her line of sight.

Jake follows you into the living room with the candle, and you motion him into Roxy’s bedroom before entering behind him. It’s filled almost to the ceiling with computing devices, offset by the occasional cat-related decoration perched on top of electronic equipment and nailed to the walls. You find one of her computers on the desk by her bed and sit down in the chair, turning the system unit on with a push of its glowing button. Jake stands off to the side, holding the candle in his hand, while you watch the screen booting up.

“Mate,” he says again, shaking his head. “Whatever you’re planning on doing with that thing, I will tell you now that it’s a terrible idea.”

“We can’t just let everyone die,” you tell him, typing several commands into the keyboard as the computer finishes waking up. “Knowing him, your uncle planned this thing out carefully. I don’t think there’s much of a chance of him losing.”

“Perhaps not, chap,” he says softly, watching you work. “But are you quite certain you know what you’re doing?”

“I have to try.” You motion for him to leave the candle on the table, and he complies, looking at you for a long, unhappy moment, before returning to the living room and pulling the door almost shut behind him. The screen is now sitting idly, and you hold up the flash drive, taking a deep breath.

The device fits easily into the matching port on the side of the computer.

You run the command to download its contents, then sit back and count to sixty after it’s finished, watching the screen for any sign of movement. The Pesterchum icon sits at the side of the desktop, and you stare at it, counting the seconds in your head. When nothing happens, you reach for the mouse and bring the little arrow to the chat program, clicking on it twice and logging yourself in when prompted. You spend another sixty seconds staring at the blinking cursor in the text box, before touching your fingers to the keyboard.

TT: Hey.

The word sits alone at the top of the screen. You lean over briefly and check the flash drive, making sure it’s plugged in properly.

TT: Are you there?

_Please be there._

You run the fingers of both hands through your hair, trying to suppress your own building anxiety. Jane and Jake’s voices are softly emanating from the other room. She sounds upset, but they’re almost whispering, and you can’t make out what she’s saying through the half-closed door.

TT: I know you’re mad at me.  
TT: But,  
TT: I guess there’s no easy way to explain this, so I’ll just give it a shot and hope for the best.

You breathe out slowly, feeling the keys under your fingertips.

TT: I want to make a deal with you.  
TT: If you look through the security cameras right now, you’ll see why.  
TT: Lots of people are dying, and it’s because of a man named English and his supporters.  
TT: They’re trying to get rid of us so they can use our resources to build more EMP devices.  
TT: They’ve been going on forever about fighting back, instead of letting ourselves get picked off one at a time, but it’s not worth the price.  
TT: I don’t know how many of us they’ve killed. The entire base is in chaos, and we can’t do anything to stop them.  
TT: Which is why I need your help.

Another minute passes, and you can hear Roxy’s voice joining the other two from the living room. You can barely make out your name in the muffled exchange, and you’d like to think that she’s defending you, but it’s hard to tell.

TT: Offering to kill myself probably won’t be enough this time around.  
TT: I get that.  
TT: Instead, I’ll make you a promise.  
TT: If you help me end this fight, I’ll give you what you want.  
TT: I’ll let you kill me.

The orange words stare back at you from the screen. There’s a chance the program he added to the drive won’t install more than once, or maybe it just takes a while for it to work, or he’s uninterested to the point of ignoring you entirely, but you have to keep trying.

TT: When it’s over, I promise I’ll go with you willingly.  
TT: No running, no struggling, no trying to get away.  
TT: You can’t pretend you don’t want that.  
TT: And yeah, it’s true you might just lie and kill me on sight, but I’m really out of options at this point.  
TT: I’ll let you into the compound. You can kill as many of English’s men as you want, but I need you to get rid of him.  
TT: Without hurting the others.  
TT: That part is really important.  
TT: Not that I could stop you or anything.

Your fingers pause on the keys as you remember how helpless he makes you feel, every single time you’ve been close to him. You’ve seen what his mechanical limbs do to solid concrete, and you shudder at the memory of them brushing against the back of your neck and coiling around your arms and legs. You stare down at your hands.

TT: I don’t even know if you were going to keep that first promise you made, back when we met.  
TT: You could have killed my friends after watching me die, and I wouldn’t have been around anymore to find out.  
TT: Although I’d like to think that you were sincere.  
TT: Like you were that second time. In the subway station.  
TT: Would it piss you off again if I said I felt bad about that?  
TT: The only reason I got away was because you were trying to be gentle with me.  
TT: Maybe you were only doing it to drag things out and fuck with me, but it’s more than English’s men would have done.  
TT: We’re all probably the same to you.  
TT: But I would do anything for my friends.  
TT: I’d die for them.  
TT: You’ve never believed me before, but let me prove it to you this time.  
TT: I’ll prove you wrong, AR.

You sit back against the chair and rest your head, letting your eyes focus on the candle’s wavering flame as you listen to their voices in the other room. Jane sounds like she’s on the verge of coming in and stopping you, but you’ve already done everything you can, and all that's left is to wait and hope that your life is still enough of a bargaining chip to keep his interest. If he thinks you’ll try to run when it’s over, he’s wrong. You won’t tell your friends until the last minute what you’ve offered in place of everyone’s lives, but you’ll take any chance you have to save them, no matter how small or remote, even if it means you won’t be with them in the end.

You’re about to stand up, getting ready to pacify Jane if she enters the room, when a flicker on the screen finally gives you an answer.

TT: You may try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Awesome glowy animated fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90107018191/notacorpse-you-may-try-oh-fuck-dang-that) for this chapter by tumblr user [notacorpse](http://notacorpse.tumblr.com/)!  
> [Another gorgeous bit of fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90189659406/kitupsidedown-so-endangered-is-really-awesome) by Tumblr user [kitupsidedown](http://kitupsidedown.tumblr.com/post/90188233657/so-endangered-is-really-awesome-and-i-definitely)!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90395267551/endangered-7) on Tumblr.

The waterworks beneath the compound’s tunnels are a place where light doesn’t reach. It’s a metal forest of pipes, snaking in and out of huge tanks that whirr and slosh, filling the cramped walkways with an endless noise. The air is musty and humid, and Jake’s candle sputters as the four of you descend the metal ladder into the blackness. The flame does little to light the wet concrete walls, but it’s enough for you to see the metal grating beneath your feet when you reach the bottom. Jane is the last to descend the ladder, and Jake holds the candle up so she can see.

“I find it hard to believe,” she says, keeping her voice low in case it echoes, “that you actually trust that horrible thing enough to believe it’ll keep its word.”

“That’s why I want the three of you to stay here,” you tell her, beckoning Roxy and Jake into a circle. “There’s a pretty good chance he’ll kill me on sight, so if that happens, I want the rest of you to escape through the sewers.” You’ve got your shades turned off again, tucked into your pocket, and the waterworks is completely devoid of electronic devices, so you’re not worried about being overheard.

Jake heaves a sigh. “Then what, mate? We’re supposed to just go on without you?”

“Yeah, that’s how it’ll have to be. I’m letting him in through the west side, so if anything goes wrong, you guys can head straight for the next city.” you tell them quietly. “In the meantime, I want you to wait in the east tunnels. If the worst ends up happening, I need to know that you’re all safe.” You’re not even finished with your words before Jane is shaking her head.

“You’re not doing this alone, Dirk,” she says, unmoved. Jake and Roxy seem to be in agreement with her, and you try not to let your exasperation show.

“Jane… guys, trust me on this. The only thing that will save you from him is distance if he decides not to cooperate.”

“Strider,” Jane speaks your surname angrily, stepping closer, “I am getting sick and tired of your endless fixation on becoming a martyr these days. I don’t know how you got it into your thick head that we’re about to just sit back and watch you sacrifice yourself for us, as though we would throw you under the proverbial bus and then go about our merry way, and honestly, Dirk, it just…” She breathes out in a huff and balls her fists. “It makes me so gosh darn _mad_ at you sometimes, I could just spit! We are not leaving you to do this alone, and I don’t care if that evil, walking meatgrinder tears me to bits, it’ll have to go through all of us first before it gets to you.”

Jake quickly nods his agreement, and you resist the urge to run both hands through your hair in frustration.

“Jane,” you begin, trying to convince them to just _let you keep them safe_ , but you can feel the fight leaving you as they meet your eyes defiantly. It’s always been one of the hardest things about having such close friends, learning over the years that they aren’t just something valuable to be guided in the right direction and protected at all costs, but that their own free will is just as important as their safety. You’d force them to leave the compound right now if you could, but in the end, you don’t own them, and their actions aren’t up to you. They know the danger, and they want to share the risk, even though it means you all might meet the same end. Although maybe that’s the point. The thought makes your eyes sting, and your throat dips as you swallow against it.

“Okay,” you concede. “I get it. I won’t ask you guys to leave.” You steel yourself and look up at them. “But I still need you to stay here while I let him in.” Jane looks like she’s about to protest, but you lift a hand to stop her. “Please, I won’t ask for anything else. I just need to do this part on my own.”

They glance at each other for a long moment in silent deliberation as the candlelight flickers against their faces, before Jane eventually speaks.

“Do you really think it’s going to help us?” she asks. Jake mutters under his breath.

“This is bloody stupid.”

“I don’t know,” you tell her, ignoring Jake. “But I think we’ll have a much better chance of that happening if I meet him alone.”

Jane sighs miserably. “I suppose it is for the best, then.” She frowns at you, crossing her arms. “However, if we hear so much as a single shout, we’re coming straight after you.”

You nod your agreement and file it away in your mind as a vitally important reason to stay quiet if anything goes wrong. Jake is busy reaffirming what Jane said to you, while trying to convince you to take at least one of his pistols, but your attention slowly drifts away from him and over to Roxy.

She’s been quiet since you left your rooms, after your friends listened to you explain what kind of help you had enlisted. Now, she watches you with an unreadable frown, standing just behind the others with the butt of her rifle resting against the floor by her feet. You left out the part about offering up your life, convincing them that the opportunity to get into the compound was bribery enough, but she can probably sense that you’re hiding something, and in truth, your story doesn’t really hold up to scrutiny.

“Dirk,” Jane begins, taking a step forward. She hesitates for a long moment, searching for something to say, before abruptly pulling you into a tight hug. You return it, telling yourself not to cry, but the stinging in your eyes returns in full force.

She lets you go after a while, and Jake takes her place, squeezing you even tighter with one arm, while he holds the candle in the other. You relish the feeling with a small sense of guilt, before letting him go. He claps a hand on your back and takes a step away, giving Roxy room to do the same, but she doesn’t move.

Jane says her name softly, and she leans her rifle against the wall, before coming towards you and gently placing her arms around your shoulders, her expression one of profound sadness.

You lean into her and hold her tight, feeling her hair tickle the side of your cheek when you turn your face towards her ear and whisper ‘sorry’ under your breath, quiet enough that the others can’t hear. Her hands tighten their grip on your shirt, and you can just barely feel her shoulders trembling. When she pulls away, she wipes the back of her hand across her eyes and gives you a half-hearted punch on the arm.

“You’d better come back,” she mutters. Your heart is heavy with the knowledge of what you’re walking into, but nothing will change how much they all mean to you, and like every time before, it calms you, keeping you grounded in a situation that would otherwise have you panicking. Jake offers you the candle along with his guns, but you decline, asking instead for the glow stick, since it’s better than nothing, and you don’t want to leave them in the dark. You turn down his pistols too, since they won’t be of any use. He scoffs goodnaturedly and finally agrees to let you go, with a final pat on your back.

“Good luck in there, mate. We’ll await your return.”

You bid them goodbye, promising Jane that you’ll be careful, and meeting Roxy’s eyes one last time, before turning away from them and walking forward into the darkness.

The faint light from Jake’s candle fades out quickly as you leave them, turning the first corner around a solid wall and taking the path leading deeper into the waterworks. The glow stick’s dying light isn’t strong enough to reach your feet, but it’s enough to keep you from running face-first into the large vertical pipes that emerge from the walkway in irregular intervals. You have to crouch down more than once, passing beneath the metal framework of the tunnels above, and the protesting ache in your leg forces you to crawl on your knees beneath the scaffolding. When you reach out to brace your hand against a large pipe near your head, it leaves your palm with a wet, gritty layer of rust.

Even with the constant fizzing of the water extractors and purifiers, it shoudn’t be enough to drown out the noise from the compound’s tunnels above, but it seems that the ambient sound of fighting and gunfire has almost completely died out. It’s a sign that doesn’t bode well for the people you’re worried about, and you try not to dwell on the possibility that your actions are coming too late.

The sound of the machinery around you begins to decrease in volume, as the walkway turns right into a dim tunnel, its ceiling strung with a row of faint lights. You abandon the spent glow stick on the floor before retrieving your shades and turning them back on. The dark glass completely blocks the light from your vision, and you have to keep one hand on the cold concrete wall as you walk blindly forward.

TT: Are you there?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: Did you find the barrier with the hatch door?  
TT: It should be under a scaffolding with a big tank and a row of pipes next to it.  
TT: Yes, I have found it.  
TT: Okay, good. I’m almost there.

You push the shades up on your head so you can see again, letting out a shaky breath. You were being honest with your friends when you told them you weren’t sure this would work, but what you didn’t mention, along with the price of this bargain, was that on a scale of one to ten, your chance of living through the next few minutes is probably somewhere around a decimal point. Then again, when it comes to the odds, you’ve beaten them twice already. It’s no reason to be optimistic, but like Jake always says, it’s better to hope for the best.

When the hatch door finally comes into view, you can feel the nervous thudding of your heart in your chest. You approach it slowly after a moment’s pause, stopping within several feet of the seal between the thick metal door and the structure around it. The latch is circular and embedded in the walls with a mechanism that has to be turned for it to open, and you rest your hands on the cold metal, feeling something that runs up your spine and spreads into your fingers, making them tremble against the latch. You close your eyes, taking one last breath and letting it out in a silent prayer to chance and fate, before giving the handle a firm twist. The neglected latch is stubborn, and you have to put your weight into it several times again, before the metal finally squeals into position, unlocking the door to the outside.

You pause, holding your breath and listening to the distant rush of the waterworks as you observe the door with apprehension. You had almost expected him to force it open and attack you once it was unlocked, but there’s no sign of movement yet, and the darkened passageway is otherwise silent.

Hesitantly, you pull the handle, and the door creaks open on its rusted hinges. You take a step back as it slowly swings towards you, and before you can take another step, something slams into the front of your throat, throwing your back against the wall and tightening painfully, before lifting you up by your neck, and your vision immediately blooms into sparkling black and white as your feet dangle an inch from the floor.

The walls around you take on a deep red color as a familiar figure steps carefully through the open hatch, following the long, black appendage latched onto your throat. He turns to look at you, regarding you silently as your feet ineffectively kick and thrash for leverage against the smooth concrete wall behind them, while your fingers pry frantically at the metal claw around your neck. You can hear yourself wheezing and gasping while your airway is compressed, and the sensation is unbearable, like your head and chest are slowly bursting open. You squint in agony at the pair of glowing eyes, watching you suffocate with an almost disinterested expression, as a weakness slowly creeps into your arms and legs.

He takes a step forward as your movements lose their coordination and your wheezing turns into short, pained gurgles. His metal hand reaches out and takes the front of your shirt between his fingers, and your eyesight goes dim as he stares at the blood dotting your clothes, with the agony in your chest giving way to a spreading numbness. Your hands slowly fall from the claws around your neck, coming to rest lifelessly at your sides.

 

 

For a brief, merciful moment, your oxygen-starved mind loses consciousness, and all discomfort fades away into a silent oblivion. Then it ends abruptly when something hits the side of your body hard, and your lungs reflexively inflate with a searing pain that makes you cough and choke against the air rushing in. Your hands find the wet concrete floor by your head and push against it, rolling you over onto your back as you gasp, helpless to an urgent, instinctive desire to breathe. Your vision slowly returns, along with a savage headache that forces you to squint up at the smudge of color above you- a blurry pattern of glowing red lines in the low light.

“You are fortunate,” it says over the sound of your distressed coughing, “that killing you in that manner was not as satisfying as I anticipated.”

You rest the back of your head against the floor, unable to speak or protest through the burning in your throat. AR observes you with an air of mild impatience as you lie at his feet, choking on nothing and struggling to fill your lungs, until every breath doesn’t feel like it’s lighting your chest on fire. After a few minutes pass, the pain subsides enough to let you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Fuck, that hurt,” you slur, bringing a hand up to your throat and pulling your shaking fingers away to grimace at the fresh blood smeared on them. Your voice is weak through an ongoing effort to catch your breath, while you wait for your head to stop spinning and your vision to clear. You make an attempt to sit up, but the returning strength in your arms seems to vanish when you look up and meet AR’s eyes. He stares down at you impassively, standing over you with his four appendages hovering ominously in the air around him. The red glow is almost disorienting, but it also lights up the narrow tunnel around you, and you can see the texture of the walls, cracked and stained with dripping water.

‘I’m alive,’ you realize with disbelief, holding his eyes like an animal stunned by floodlights, as the memories of your previous encounters with him play through your mind. You swallow against the sudden dryness in your throat.

“Does this mean you’re going to help me?” Your voice is rough, and talking makes it worse. His eyes narrow slightly, and that’s all the warning you have before one of the hovering appendages strikes out, latching itself around the lower half of your face and slamming the back of your head against the floor as your vision erupts again in flashing spots.

“You are mine,” he says softly, slowly, staring down at you with cold eyes, “and my assistance shall be the price for this exchange, as previously discussed. I will end your petty human fight for you, and when it is over,” the claws around your face tighten, digging into your skin until something wet rolls down the side of your cheek, “you will kneel for me, and I will tear into you until your blood stains the ground beneath you. I will remove your limbs one articulating joint at a time, and hold your beating heart up for you to see.” The appendage pressing your head into the floor slowly lifts, dragging you up with it as you kick your feet. He stops with the toes of your shoes brushing against the ground. “Very few humans get the opportunity to observe their own internal working parts. If you are interested, I could identify each of your organs for you as I pull them out and set them aside.”

He considers you for a moment, watching you struggle uselessly in his grip, before abruptly releasing you again. Your injured leg buckles beneath the sudden weight, and your shoulder hits the wall as you stagger to keep your balance. He watches you silently as you lean against it, trying to will the stability back into your legs. You wipe the blood from your face and try not to picture what you must look like right now or what your friends will think when they see you, and just like that, the sudden thought of them fills you with a fierce, unyielding resolve.

“Not until you help me,” you grit through your teeth, clenched against the splitting pain in your head. “That was our deal, and I’m not doing _shit_ for you unless you stick to my terms.”

He glares as you struggle to stand, but you hold his eyes in an unspoken challenge, hanging on to this last bargaining chip as your only hope of saving your friends and family. There’s a dangerous tension in the air as he visibly considers whether he should tear you apart and be done with it, or if your future obedience is worth the trouble, but slowly, his glare fades into an impassive stare, and you can feel your subconsciously coiled muscles relaxing as the danger passes.

“As I have already stated,” he concedes with mild disgust. “I will tolerate your ‘terms,’ but if you fail to cooperate at the end,” the hovering appendages orient themselves around you as he steps close, their pointed claws spreading open, “I will find your friends instead, and they will take your place as payment.”

“I won’t go back on my word,” you tell him, forgetting your pain for a moment as a potent anger fills you. “But if you do anything to hurt them, the deal’s off.”

His caustic red eyes meet yours again as you stand your ground defiantly, and despite the situation, you find yourself unwillingly distracted by the warmth emanating from his mechanical body. He’s standing very close to you- a gesture originally meant to intimidate, but the waterworks beneath the tunnels are oppressively cold this time of year, and the sudden heat feels like heaven against your chilled skin. The moment becomes drawn out, as he stares at you with growing curiosity at your distracted silence, until something settles in your mind. Whether it’s the ticking clock counting down your last few hours of life, or some sort of impairment from the repeated trauma to your head, you’re seized by a sudden disregard for consequences and explanations, as your hand lifts and closes the distance between your palm and the smooth, black metal of his chest.

When your hand finds its mark, you’re almost startled by the gentle vibration of unseen mechanisms beneath it, along with the almost too-hot temperature of the metal, just shy of uncomfortable, but not quite enough to make you pull away. The circuits flicker beneath your fingers the way you imagined they would, and you can feel a slight tingling sensation in your skin where it touches the red tracks of light, like a weak current passing through. You slide your fingers over them, almost hypnotized by the feeling and the knowledge of what you're doing, and it occurs to you belatedly that you half-expected AR to slam you against the wall again for touching him, since he’s done it several times already for lesser reasons, but so far he hasn't moved. You finally look up from your hand covering the circuits on his chest to see his eyes watching you intently.

“You’re warm,” you mutter softly, letting your hand fall to your side as you lean against the cold concrete wall at your back. AR continues to stare wordlessly, his thoughts obscure to you, before taking a step back and retracting his hovering claws.

“Your erratic behavior is indicative of mild head trauma and intracranial damage,” he observes passively in his detached, metallic voice. “Let us finish this before your cognition becomes progressively more impaired.”

“Yeah, and whose fucking fault is that,” you mutter under your breath, putting a hand on the wall for balance as you steady yourself on your feet. Your head still feels like it’s spinning, but you retrieve your shades from the floor and take the first few limping steps back the way you came, choosing to vindictively ignore AR for now and let him do as he pleases. The darkness slowly returns as you make your way down the narrow tunnel, but after a moment it’s chased away by a soft, red light as the android, your only remaining hope for ending this conflict, silently follows behind you, back towards the waterworks and your group of waiting friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Amazing (and terrifying) fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90639097591/ar-is-bustin-through-your-dash-to-remind-you-that) by Tumblr user jaboody with their excellent AR design!  
> [Especially gorgeous fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90426663561/notacorpse-youre-warm-oh-maaaaaan-youve) of a rather tender moment by the very talented Tumblr user [notacorpse](http://notacorpse.tumblr.com/)!  
> [Lovely and intimidating artwork](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/121546379986/pshikel-very-few-humans-get-the-opportunity-to) by Tumblr user [pshikel](http://pshikel.tumblr.com/)!!  
>  And lastly, [a very potent work of fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90871077121/yen-mae-you-are-mine-morts-endangered-is) of an intense exchange by the incredible Tumblr user [yen-mae](http://yen-mae.tumblr.com/)!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90779876376/endangered-8) on Tumblr.

The glow from AR’s circuits lights up the waterworks with an ambient red light, turning the forest of pipes into an expanse of gigantic capillaries and blood vessels surrounding the metal walkway at your feet. The comparison lingers strangely in your mind as you progress, losing count of the number of times you have to check over your shoulder to make sure he’s still following you. The light should be evidence enough, but you’d expected his metal feet to make more of a sound against the floor. You’d never know he was behind you otherwise, except for the intermittent, metallic sound of his claws as he uses the appendages to lighten his weight, slowly reaching out one at a time and latching them onto the pipes and parts of the metal framework around him as he walks. It would be fascinating to watch if his glowing eyes weren’t already locked onto yours every time you turn around to look. As the two of you progress deeper into the waterworks, the air gets progressively thicker with moisture, and AR’s circuits turn the air into a deep, red fog.

“Hey,” you murmur, as something occurs to you, “will you be okay with all this water down here?”

He’s only a few steps behind you, but you can still feel his warmth at your back, and the palm of your hand tingles with the memory of touching him. You almost don’t hear his response to your question as a result, but the disdain in his voice is obvious.

“The ambient humidity in this area will not cause damage to my external circuitry, if that is what you are needlessly concerned about.”

“Alright, fine. I was just making sure,” _you ungrateful asshole_. Your thoughts are more distracted than usual, thanks to the steady pain in your head, but the thought of the armed conflict above soon coming to an end is more than enough to keep you going. You try not to dwell too much on what will come after, or what your friends (and Bro, if he’s still alive) will do when they find out you’ve bartered your life away. The thought of them reminds you suddenly of something important, and you slow your limping pace for AR to catch up, until he’s walking next to you with his spiderlike limbs, forcing you to duck beneath them every now and then when he reaches for a pipe over your head.

“I have one more condition to add,” you tell him, and he turns to fix you with a warning stare. “It’s nothing major, I just…didn’t tell my friends about our deal, or how I’ll be leaving with you after this, so don’t mention it to them.”

He turns away in disinterest, and it might be your imagination, but you think you see his eyes roll.

“The information you choose to share or neglect with your companions does not concern me.”

“You can’t tell them,” you order him, doing your best to make your voice sound commanding, and he lets out a quiet, impatient sigh.

“I have no intention of doing so,” he repeats slowly, and his metal appendages seem to briefly twist in the air, like a gesture of frustration. “Your excessive concern over this hypothetical situation is unfounded and irrational.”

You bite back a retort, forcing yourself to be content with his backhanded agreement, but your frustration is quickly forgotten as your eyes pick up on a strange discoloration around the base of his neck as he walks alongside you. It’s easy to miss in the monochrome light, but you can just make out the smudged shape and irregular edges, almost like a burn mark. You hadn’t noticed it before.

‘Did I actually hurt him?’ you wonder, eyeing the evidence. He must be able to feel things somehow, but you didn’t think androids would be capable of pain. Although, it could explain why he’s been so hostile ever since the incident in the subway. Maybe he’s never been hurt like that before, but it’s impossible to know for sure, and you’re not about to ask.

He falls behind again as you get on your knees to crawl under a stretch of low scaffolding. You turn to watch him crouch beneath it, moving effortlessly through the narrow space with his eight limbs to your four. They must be invaluable for navigating the ruins of the city, but they’re also potent killing devices, as the now-constant ache in your body reminds you. Your vision isn’t swimming anymore, but you can’t seem to shake the feeling of being slightly off-balance. The only upside is that it won’t matter for much longer, as your ears pick up on the soft sound of voices around the next corner.

You pause and glance back at him, squinting against the light of his circuits and weighing whether or not you should reiterate your very serious condition that he is prohibited from hurting your friends, but he’s meeting your stare with a vaguely displeased expression, as though he can sense what you’re thinking. You turn away, deciding that you’d rather not antagonize him any further, and take a deep breath, hoping desperately that this doesn’t end badly.

He lags behind as you turn the last corner, your eyes adjusting to the sudden variety of color as the red glow gives way somewhat to the yellowed light of the candle in Jake’s hand. They’re standing in a loose circle, and it looks like they might have been seated before hearing you approach. All three of them are now watching you silently, as the red glow becomes stronger, and AR quietly emerges behind you.

In this moment, you’ve decided that the best way you can protect them is by refusing to show fear. You stand up straight, keeping a careful eye on their reactions, as Jake slowly raises one of his pistols at the android. Roxy reaches over before you can tell him off, and puts a hand on his arm, mumbling something to him, before he reluctantly lowers it. AR, for his part, seems to be observing the three of them with nothing beyond mild disdain, and you make sure to keep yourself firmly between him and your friends as you approach them slowly. Jane’s eyes are wide, and Roxy has a similar expression on her face as she grips the stock of her rifle, but it takes you a moment to realize that they’re not looking at AR. Jane’s expression seems to twist for a moment, before she finally breaks off from the others and approaches you. She seizes the edge of her shirt and tears off a large strip of cloth, using it to wipe at the side of your face.

“You’re covered in blood.” Her voice is subdued and miserable, as she uses the fabric to clean the scratches in your skin, before pressing it to a deep gash in your neck. Jake’s expression is slowly darkening, his eyes trained on AR, and you silently beg him not to open his mouth, but then Jane brushes her fingers through the hair at the back of your head, and you hiss through your teeth at the sudden stab of pain. When she pulls her hand away, it’s smeared with blood, and she reaches around to press the cloth strip against the wound.

“Are you okay?” She whispers, and you force a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m alright. It looks worse than it is.”

She frowns at you, seeing instantly through your bravado, then glares angrily over your shoulder at AR. Jake’s eyes haven’t left him either.

“What did you do to him, you monster?” He snarls, clutching the pistol still in his hand.

“ _Jake_ ,” you snap, pinning him with a warning glare.

“Jake, put it away,” Roxy repeats quietly, as Jane holds the cloth in place at the back of your head. Jake glowers at the rest of you unhappily for a moment, before reholstering his gun. You glance over your shoulder, but AR’s expression is still safely neutral with a vague air of impatience, and you breath a quiet sigh of relief, although your nerves are still on edge. “I’m fine, you guys. It’s alright.”

“Shut it, Dirk, you’re not fine,” Jane mutters, motioning Jake to bring the candle over and hold it up. She tilts your head back, lifting your eyelid with her thumb and checking the size of your pupils.

“We don’t have time for this, Jane,” you whisper apologetically, gently taking her wrist and lowering her hand. She looks like she wants to protest, but glances again at AR standing behind you, and seems to reconsider. The longer this goes on, the riskier it becomes for them, just by virtue of their proximity, and you quietly thank Jane for her help and apologise again to Roxy and Jake for worrying them, before beckoning your friends into a circle.

“Alright, let’s hurry up and figure this out,” you sigh, holding Jane’s cloth against the back of your head. The others are seated around you on the floor, with Jake’s candle forgotten in favor of the bright glow from AR’s circuits. The android crouches silently off to the side, keeping his distance from the four of you while he watches impassively. You’d like to pretend it doesn’t unnerve you, but so long as he leaves your friends alone, he can stare all he wants.

“It’s gone rather quiet up there,” Jake murmurs, sparing a glare in AR’s direction while the android pointedly ignores him, to your relief. “I’m afraid the fighting might have ended entirely while you were gone.”

“Yeah, I noticed that earlier.” You pull the cloth away and wince at the amount of blood on it. There’s a noticeably sticky feeling on the back of your head, and you can only imagine what it looks like from behind.

“We should have heard something by now, if English had lost,” Jane says, taking the ragged edge of her shirt and tearing off another strip of fabric, exposing the pale skin of her stomach. She hands it to you in exchange for the one in your hand, discarding the bloodied cloth on the floor.

“English is our target, but we’ll try to get rid of his gang in the process if we can.” you tell her, carefully pressing the cloth to your head. “I’m guessing he’s in the command center, since he might be getting ready to overhaul the compound.” A thought occurs to you, and you turn to AR, sitting a short distance away with his metal appendages resting on the floor. “Can you see through the security cameras?”

“Yes,” his reply is brief, and your mind conjures a vivid image of the word in red text on a screen.

“We’re looking for English,” you tell him, before considering that he might not know who you’re talking about. “He’s a large man with green clothes, like a shirt and suspenders, under a heavy coat.”

“A really ugly coat,” Roxy adds under her breath.

AR gazes back at you quietly, and one of the metal coils on the floor begins to shift. Jane stares at it apprehensively and mutters your name, while Jake’s grip tightens on his holstered gun.

“I am not able to perceive color through the limited range of photosites in your primitive cameras,” he responds impatiently.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Jake growls at AR, and you have to resist the powerful urge to hit him upside the head, before Roxy leans over and tells him that the security cameras only record in black and white.

“Shit,” you mutter. “We need to find him before we do anything else. What about the command center?” you ask, but even as the words come out, something else is already on your mind. “Is my brother in there?”

“What about my grandma?” Jake speaks up, his voice suddenly subdued. Jane and Roxy are watching the two of you hesitantly, and you know they’re wondering about their parents. AR blinks at them, and doesn’t respond.

“It’s a large room, with lots of computer monitors and consoles,” you tell him. “It’s where my brother coordinates the base’s activities, you’ve seen him in there before.”

He stares at you silently, while your friends do the same, before the shifting metal appendage lifts into the air.

“Give me your computing device,” he says, his tone almost reluctant. Your mind stumbles for a moment, before realizing that he’s talking about your shades, and Roxy puts out a hand to help you stand up. You limp the short distance over to him, before tucking Jane’s cloth into your pocket and removing your folded shades, holding them out in your hand.

The black appendage twists slowly in the air, approaching your outstretched hand and extending its pointed claws. They gently close around the eyewear and retract slightly, before lifting it and returning to him. He reaches behind his neck and pulls out a black wire grasped between his fingers, taking your shades in his other hand and plugging the tip into the device.

“Put them on,” he orders, holding the eyewear out to you with the wire still plugged in. You meet his eyes apprehensively, with your friends watching behind you, before reaching out and carefully taking it from him. The desktop display is bright against your eyes, forcing you squint against it as you feel the lopsided weight of the wire against your ear. After a moment, the screen flickers, displaying an error message that reverts into a console window, as lines of code rapidly flash across your vision, the letters and numbers passing by too quickly for your eyes to keep up. Another window opens on top of it, the image nothing but jumping static, before it flickers again, and you’re suddenly left staring at yourself, with the thin, black wire coming out of the side of your shades and the skin all the way around your neck smeared with drying blood. You can also see the others behind you, lit by the candle on the floor between them, and before you can say anything, the image flickers again and reverts to static, this time resolving into an overhead view of a room in grainy black and white.

You recognize the command center, even from the strange perspective and poor quality. A small number of people are moving around, and you can see a larger figure at one of the consoles, with a familiar man standing next to him. A third figure stands behind the second one, with a small gun pointed at his head.

“Bro,” you whisper, watching as English turns and says something to him, his mouth moving wordlessly. He seems to pause, waiting for a response, before turning back to the screen and putting his hand on the keyboard, his fingers moving. You notice your Bro’s arms are held strangely behind his back, as though his hands are tied together, and your heart clenches painfully, before a slow wave of anger takes its place.

“Dirk? What’s going on?” you hear Jake asking, his voice hesitant. You watch the screen for a moment longer, as English continues typing something and your Bro stands motionlessly next to him.

“I can see the command center,” you tell him, scanning the room for more familiar faces. There’s a small figure crouched off to the side in a chair, halfway obscured by the edge of the screen, and you think it might be Calliope, hugging her knees to her chest. You recognize some of English’s followers by their faces, and are somewhat startled to realize that the several large, dark shapes on the floor are actually bodies.

“Is my mom there?” Roxy’s voice this time. You shake your head, mindful of the wire attached to your shades.

“I don’t see her,” you say softly, squinting through the grainy image at the figures, “but I can only make out half of the room.” As soon as you’re done saying the words, the image suddenly jumps again, and you’re left with a view from a different direction. The metal door leading out to the tunnels has a figure standing next to it, holding a gun with a rag tied around their upper arm. You can still see your brother and English, standing in front of the large console. Then your eyes pick up on another figure, slumped against the far wall, with very long, white hair covering their face. You’d recognize her hair anywhere. You’d always admired it when you were younger, and every time she let you run your fingers through the soft strands, you wondered what it would be like to grow your own hair out like that, but your brother never allowed it. You have to savagely bite the inside of your lip to keep your eyes from filling with tears.

‘Shit,’ you think miserably, trying to decide what to say to Jake, or if you should refrain from mentioning it for now. Jane’s dad is nowhere to be seen, and Roxy’s mother hasn’t made an appearance either, although they could be held captive somewhere else. You let out a slow breath.

“I can see my Bro. He’s with English,” you tell them, lifting the shades to glance at your group of waiting friends, then at AR, watching you silently. Your direct your next question at him. “Can you tell what they’re doing?”

He stares at you for another long moment, before his eyes become unfocused, their color dimming slightly as he speaks.

“They are altering the encryptions present in multiple file sets and programs within that device.”

“He’s taking the passwords from Bro.” you mutter to them, letting your shades fall back into place and watching your brother’s mouth move as he speaks again. The man behind him suddenly shoves his head forward with the gun, as another member of English’s gang comes into view, and the screen flickers, before a simplified chat window opens on top of the footage.

TT: I do not understand why your companions are here.  
TT: If you wished to keep them from harm, as you have repeatedly stated, why are they not gathered in a hidden location?

You grit your teeth together, trying not to glare at AR over the top of your shades.

TT: Because they wanted to stay.  
TT: I am well acquainted with your lack of survival instincts, however I was not aware that this self-destructive trait was shared by your entire group of companions, as though it were a communicable disease.

You glare at him anyway, and he meets your eyes impassively.

TT: They’re my friends, and we don’t abandon each other.  
TT: This desire to remain in close proximity to you is a significant detriment to their safety, and your permittance of this behavior is in direct conflict with your repeated desire to keep them safe.  
TT: Perhaps I have overestimated your intellect.

“Do you see anything else?” Jane asks hesitantly at your ongoing silence, and you let out a frustrated breath, cursing silently at the android while willing your voice to be calm.

“No,” you tell her, removing the shades from your face and turning them sideways to curiously touch the wire plugged into them. AR is staring at you impatiently, and you almost jump when he speaks in his metallic voice.

“This continued deliberation is unnecessary,” he says, one of his appendages extending towards you and taking the eyewear when you reflexively hold it out. “The location of your family members is irrelevant to the task I am here to perform.”

“It’s not irrelevant, you bloody machine.” Jake snaps back. You watch in horror as AR’s eyes narrow at him dangerously, and a familiar fear crawls up your spine.

“Jake,” you say quickly, “guys, please. We know where English is, so let’s just focus on that and try to get this over with.” As you finish talking, AR’s appendage holds the shades out to you with the wire removed, and you take it from him before returning to your circle of friends. Jane and Roxy are visibly unnerved, but you do your best to keep the conversation on track, even though you’re still trying to push down your frustration as you fold the shades into your pocket.

“Dirk,” Roxy leans over and glances at AR, her voice low. “I get that he won’t have any problems with the guns or whatever they’re walking around with up there, but what about the EMP devices?”

Jane makes a small sound of affirmation as she realizes the same thing. Jake is sitting in a brooding silence, apparently still upset by the exchange. You force yourself to put the thought of his grandmother at the back of your mind, along with the gun pointed at your brother’s head.

“That’s why we’re taking them by surprise,” you say, looking around at the others. “The entire base only has a few electromagnetic weapons to begin with, and they’re all at the main entrance points or in maintenance. Even if English kept the security measures in place during his armed takeover, they won’t be expecting an android to show up already inside the compound.”

“Then what about the cameras?” Roxy asks. “The security feeds go straight to the command center’s consoles. They’ll see him coming, unless we can do something about that.”

“AR can disrupt the video feeds. Someone might notice, but it shouldn’t matter.” As you talk, you notice a strange expression pass over their faces almost simultaneously.

“I’m sorry, mate, but what was that? It sounded like you said ‘error,’” Jake says curiously.

“It’s his name,” you explain under your breath, gesturing at the android. “AR, like the letters. It’s an acronym.”

“For what?” Jake asks in disbelief. “Hold on, they actually have names?”

Jane elbows him, and you silently thank her, before trying to get the conversation back on track.

“The door to the command center was closed, but it isn’t reinforced.” You pause and glance at AR, who stares back at you derisively. “I don’t think it should be a problem for him. I’ve seen those metal claws break through solid concrete.”

“Are you going up there too?” Roxy asks, frowning slightly. You nod, and her face falls.

“I have to, just in case. I need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone he’s not supposed to.”

“Well then, we’re going with you,” Jake says, matter-of-factly.

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, and he glares at you.

“And why the bloody hell not? What’s your confounded reason for it this time, Strider?”

“Because I need the three of you to make sure that none of English’s gang escape.” You meet their eyes, trying to convince them, since there’s no way in hell you’re letting them come with you. “The command center has two main routes leading out of it. Once AR and I get there, everything will go to hell within minutes, so I need you guys at the opposite route on the other side of the base to take care of any stragglers.”

Your argument is convincing at first glance, but what you aren’t telling them is that it’ll be entirely unnecessary in the end. Once English is gone, it’s doubtful that any of his underlings will have the initiative or the authority over the others to lead. It’s even more unlikely that any of them will make it out of the command center alive once you lead AR into there, and those left patrolling the tunnels will flee into the city if they escape, where they’ll be picked off by the androids, if the weather and lack of resources don’t kill them first. Even so, it’ll be easier for everyone if you can leave afterwards without them around to notice. You’ve thought long and hard about telling them, but if their reactions lately are anything to go by, it’s obvious that they’ll try to stop you, or worse, try to stop AR. It’s a risk you can’t take, even if it means you won’t get to say goodbye.

They agree to your plan, although somewhat halfheartedly. You tell them to follow the waterworks to the other side of the compound, and to wait there until they hear anything that sounds like mass panic, then check the maintenance labs for hostages after taking care of any fleeing gang members. Roxy’s mom could be in there, if they stuck to their philosophy about sparing those with “useful” skills, and Jane’s dad could be anywhere, although you aren’t sure about his chances, given that his most useful skillset was his affinity for cooking.

You stand as they do the same, gathering up their weapons, and Jake suddenly pulls you aside.

“Listen mate, I know you’re not going to hear a single thing I have to say,” he says, holding up a hand when you start to protest, “but I don’t trust that glowing tin can any more than the others do, and I know you’ve worked out some sort of arrangement with him, but you may as well have made an agreement with a toaster, for all the good that’ll come of it.” He leans in close, putting a hand on your shoulder where it meets your neck, and you can feel the rough skin of his calloused fingers. “We talked it over a bit after you left, and we all think it would be best if you gave your unpleasant companion the slip once the fighting starts. We’ll come and find you after it’s done, and then figure out what to do if he decides not to leave after getting rid of my uncle.”

You swallow, trying not to stare at Jake’s green eyes, because chances are you’ll never see him again after this. He smiles when you nod, mistaking your hesitation for consideration of his plan, and you fantasize momentarily about hugging him just to feel it one last time, but he steps away, and turns back to the others to help them figure out which direction to go through the waterworks. You let out a long, mournful breath, watching them taking together in a loose circle, trying to memorize the sight of it like a treasured photograph. You turn to check on AR as an afterthought, to find his red eyes staring at you intently, before glancing over to Jake, and you can almost see him putting the pieces together.

“Dirk?” Jane calls you over, holding one of Jake’s pistols in her hand. She abandoned her bloodied pipe in your shared rooms, along with your sword. “We’re ready to get going, if you are.”

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” You exchange parting words with them, Jane telling you to be safe, Jake wishing you luck, and Roxy ordering you to come back in one piece. You lie to each of them, and watch as they turn to leave together, Jake holding the flickering candle in one hand while they make their way through the first layer of pipes. After a few long moments, AR appears silently beside you.

“This has been a significant waste of time,” he says irately.

“Come on,” you reply simply, walking towards the metal ladder leading up to the tunnels above, as the distant light of your friends vanishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Very intense fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/90870324061/notacorpse-so-should-i-change-the-passwords-to) of Dave's unfortunate predicament by the wonderful Tumblr user [notacorpse](http://notacorpse.tumblr.com/)!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/91198028741/endangered-9) on Tumblr.

You emerge from the ladder into the tunnel above, and blink in the sudden light of the ceiling’s fluorescent bulbs. The compound has gone almost completely quiet, since the familiar sound of people going about their daily business has been eliminated. You move a few steps away from the ladder, crouching against the wall as your leg aches from the climb, and a pair of long, black appendages emerge from below, bracing themselves against the floor. AR slowly lifts himself out of the waterworks a moment later, and follows you with his eyes as you lean to check around the first corner, seeing nothing but the empty hallway and a line of bullet holes along the wall.

“Okay,” you breathe, keeping your voice soft. “The command center is in the middle of the base. I’ll take you there, but we need to stay hidden. We can’t let them know you’re here.” You take Jane’s cloth from your pocket and carefully wrap it around your neck, covering the bloodied scratches. “Especially when it comes to the ones still patrolling around. If they figure out what’s going on, we might lose our chance at English, so whatever you do, try to keep it quiet.”

You look up from securing the cloth in place to see AR suddenly glaring at you. One of the hovering appendages snakes its way through the air as its claws spread open, before pressing itself to the front of your face and covering your mouth, pushing your head back against the wall. Your heart flutters against the inside of your chest like a frantic bird in a cage. He’s being gentle compared to before, but the wound on your head still throbs painfully as its pressed against the wall.

“Do not,” he hisses, as his grip tightens and you resist the terrified urge to pry at the metal claws with your fingers, “instruct me on how to perform my function.”

Something strange begins to happen, as his glowing red eyes glare and his mechanical limb, with its strength to tear holes in solid stone, holds you effortlessly in place. You meet his stare, silently begging him to let you go before the feeling you’re exerting every last shred of mental effort to ignore spreads any further than the pit of your stomach, and he releases you after a long moment, retracting the claws as your head falls forward with the sudden lack of support.

“We have wasted far too much time with your companions,” AR says, while you slouch on the floor at his feet, willing your heart to stop pounding. “I have thus far tolerated your commands in the interest of expediting your deliberation with them, however I will not allow you to further dictate my actions.”

“I wasn’t-” you sigh, as frustration wins out over your lingering fear and the residual warm feeling where he touched you. “I wasn’t trying to order you around.” He narrows his eyes skeptically while you attempt to stand, staggering against the wall for a moment when your leg bitterly complains. “Look, I get that you already know how to do this, but-”

A sudden sound from around the corner interrupts your whispered exchange, and you turn your head as AR mirrors you, hearing a set of footsteps approach. He stares in the direction of the sound, and the appendages around him slowly lift into the air.

“Wait,” you whisper to him, holding out an arm, and he glares again as you lean over to catch a glimpse of a man with a green cloth tied around his leg, pausing at the end of the long hallway with a large assault rifle in his arms. You turn back to AR, meeting his angry stare.

“Let me draw him closer,” you whisper, sparing another glance around the corner to see the man fumbling with something on his gun. “If he sees you, he’ll run, or he might start shouting and warn the others.”

You take AR’s brooding silence for agreement, and he watches as you press yourself flat against the wall by the corner. Hesitating, you take a few deep breaths, before stepping around and standing in the middle of the walkway, fear making your chest almost heave as you wait for the man to see you. He turns his head, then lifts his rifle and approaches you at a jogging run. You duck around the corner just as the gun fires, and the bullet hits the wall where you were standing a moment ago. AR is still observing without comment, as you press yourself against the concrete and try to calm your shaking hands.

“I would advise that you position yourself behind me,” he says passively. It takes you a few seconds to process what he’s said, but you accept his advice and reposition yourself at his back, as he quietly stands and faces the sound of pounding footsteps. The man appears around the corner a moment later, coming to a sudden stop in front of AR. You watch over the android’s shoulder as his expression warps from surprise into a slow, dawning terror.

The appendage lashes out almost too fast for you to see, latching onto his throat and lifting him into the air as he drops the gun with a clatter. Without so much as a single word or gesture, AR closes his grip, and foaming blood erupts from the man’s mouth and gushes between the metal claws with a horrific bubbling sound. You can’t shut your eyes in time to prevent the afterimage from burning into your mind.

You hear the soft thump of his body against the floor, and clench your fingers to find them unknowingly buried in your hair. You breathe in the silence, opening your eyes in time to see AR quietly flicking the blood from his metal claws, as though he’s done this a thousand times, which, you have to remind yourself, he has. The man’s crumpled body is face-down on the floor, and you can’t stop yourself from staring at it. When AR finally turns around to look at you, the sight of his hovering claws, coupled with the recent memory of them wrapped around your face, makes you lean against the wall as your knees suddenly lose their strength, and you swallow against a sudden wave of nausea. His red eyes narrow.

“Is this not what you wanted?” AR’s tone is equal parts mocking and vindictive, as one of the metal appendages lowers, digging its claws between the man’s shoulders and lifting his body into the air for you to see. You shut your eyes again, as the image of a crushed throat and blood-soaked shirt enter your vision. “I have killed him quickly and silently, as you requested. Would you rather I had waited and allowed him to suffocate instead? Is the sight of human blood too much for your fragile mind to endure when it is not your own?” He releases the body with another thump, and you open your eyes to see him turning away. “Come. I have waited long enough for this, and I have reached the end of my patience for your repeated delays.”

He starts forward, rounding the corner and walking down the long corridor with his appendages bracing themselves on the floor and walls around him. You follow him on legs still shaky from the image lingering in your mind, as your thoughts return to the waterworks, how he held you in the air by your neck, the scratches his claws left in your skin, and how gentle his actions really were at the time.

Apparently your pace is too slow for his liking, because he turns to pin you with an impatient stare, as he approaches the end of the tunnel where it branches off into two paths.

“This way.” You direct him to the left and limp after him, passing beneath a security camera. “Did you disrupt the cameras?”

“Yes,” he replies briefly, coming to another fork in the walkway and pausing for you to catch up. As you get close to him, you hear an almost feminine shout from around the corner, and AR’s head quickly turns in the direction of the noise, before he suddenly extends all four of his limbs and disappears down the tunnel with a rhythmic pounding. There’s another, higher-pitched cry soon after that, brief and abruptly cut off, before you finally make it around the corner to see AR at the other end of the corridor, his black appendages moving in front of him, and something flesh-colored and red on the floor at his feet. You turn away and wait, facing the other direction and forcibly ignoring the sounds coming from behind you. AR quietly returns after a minute, and you can see the wet stains on his claws. He doesn’t bother flicking them clean.

“This is exactly why I wanted to go first,” you mutter, walking down the tunnel and away from the remains of what you hope was one of English’s gang and not an innocent survivor.

“Allowing you to come within sight of these humans may result in a fatal wound from their weapons.” He keeps pace beside you, pressing his claws against the walls and leaving angular red marks on the concrete. “Were you to die in this manner, it would render our arrangement and this entire endeavor ultimately pointless. You will stay behind me to prevent this from occurring.”

“No,” you begin, turning the next corner after making sure the tunnel beyond is empty, “what would render this entire arrangement pointless is if you start killing people who aren’t part of English’s gang. The whole reason I’m doing this is to save the compound, so it kind of defeats the purpose if you’re going to rip apart everyone you catch sight of.” You’re about to turn the next corner, when something latches onto your arm and roughly pulls you back, making you stumble against the wall. You look down to see AR’s bloodstained claws, and almost open your mouth to protest, before noticing that he’s staring intently ahead at the corridor beyond the turn in the path.

A low voice drifts to your ears, followed by another. You lean over to peek around the corner, seeing a small group of people with various firearms and green cloth markers. AR’s claws are still wrapped around your arm, and he doesn’t release when you pull against them. You might as well be trying to bend a crowbar in half.

“Listen,” you whisper combatively, “apart from the guns, all of English’s followers wear some kind of green clothing to distinguish themselves, but you need to let me identify them first before you hurt them.”

“I am not incapable of identifying green wavelengths of light on a piece of fabric,” he hisses angrily, his claws tightening. You glare back at him defiantly.

“ _Shit!_ ” A strange voice suddenly fills your ear, and the two of you turn your heads at the same moment to see one of the men standing several feet away. “It’s an andr-”

The man’s frantic voice is cut off, as a black appendage slams into his face and carries him backwards, crushing his head against the wall. The sound of cracking bone accompanies the blood running down his neck, before the appendage retracts a moment later and his now-faceless body crumples to the floor. You feel the claws release your arm while the others begin their retreat, as indicated by the echoing sound of panicked voices and pounding footsteps.

You knew objectively that AR was fast, but you’ve never actually seen him in pursuit of anyone before, apart from that time in the subway. The concept of a spider comes again to mind as you hesitantly step around the corner, catching a glimpse of his black limbs rapidly carrying him down the corridor, until he catches up to the first of the three remaining gang members. He passes over the unfortunate man as one of the appendages takes him by the leg and drags him along behind him, and the second man is caught a moment later, as one set of claws grab him by the head and savagely yank him to the side, throwing his limp body against the wall and leaving his neck bent at an unnatural angle. The last fleeing man turns and fires his gun, causing the bullets that find their mark to spark and ricochet off of AR’s metal plating. He grabs the firearm and flings it away with one appendage, while the other closes its claws and passes through the man’s chest with a sickening crunch. He grabs at it weakly, before sinking to his knees.

The captive on the floor is still struggling and yelling, with the claw wrapped around his leg and a spreading red stain where the points are digging in. The appendage in the other man’s chest pulls out of his ribcage and fastens itself around the struggling man’s mouth to stifle his terrified cries. AR turns and walks back down the tunnel towards you, dragging the man on the floor behind him as he reaches out to anything his hands can grasp in an attempt to save himself. You watch as he finally gets a grip on the floor’s metal grating, but a clawed appendage descends on him in retaliation, and you have to close your eyes at the wet sound of cracking bones. AR returns to you with the man’s blood still dripping from one of his claws, mixed with flecks of unidentified tissue. The remains of the body on the floor have been pulled apart into something almost unrecognizable.

You can feel the bile rising in your throat at the sight, and without thinking, reach up to your throat and pull Jane’s cloth from where it was coming loose around your neck. You grab the hovering claw out of the air by its black metal arm and quickly wipe the gore off of it, while AR, miraculously, doesn’t pull away.

“Was that really necessary?” you mutter weakly, throwing the disgusting cloth on the floor once you’re finished. “Whatever happened to killing them quickly?”

“The speed of their death is irrelevant,” he replies after eyeing you strangely for a moment, then turning away to continue down the tunnel. You follow after him, stepping around the mutilated remains.

“You tortured him,” you quietly remark, half to yourself. AR doesn’t respond at first, ignoring you in favor of the tunnel ahead, with the two bodies slumped against the wall.

“His death was a mercy,” he eventually says, without turning his head as he walks, “compared to what yours will be.”

You slow your pace at his words, with the sudden reminder of what awaits you at the end of all this. The very concept is made even worse by this active demonstration of what his limbs are really capable of, but you grit your teeth and push the thoughts away, ordering yourself to focus on the task at hand. It doesn’t work as well as you’d hoped, and you’re at a loss for words for the next few minutes, silently following behind him and pointing out directions at each bend in the tunnels. You still don’t want him walking in front of you, but you’re suddenly uninterested in continuing the argument. He pauses every now and then to let you catch up, watching you limp after him with a dispassionate stare. For whatever reason you can only begin to guess at, it makes the skin around your neck and ears feel inexplicably hot.

AR pauses after rounding the next corner, standing in front of a low set of stairs leading up to a metal door. You join him a moment later, trying not to think about what the next hour holds. Instead, you mentally compare the camera footage from before to the door in front of you, remembering the man standing guard with the cloth tied on his arm.

“Hold on,” you whisper, mindful of the faint, muffled voices on the other side. You take a breath and lean on the railing, cursing the injury on your leg for the hundredth time that day. “Before you go in, I need to set one last rule.”

AR’s eyes narrow, but he says nothing. You could tell that his patience was at an end some time ago, and you get the feeling that you’re going to pay dearly for this and everything else you’ve done to inconvenience him, but for now, he can just put it on your tab if he doesn’t like it.

“I know I said before that English was our target,” you tell him quietly, trying to breathe off some of the pain while he watches you impassively, “but my Bro might still be in there, if he isn’t dead. I don’t care what happens to the rest of them, but I need him to make it through this. Do you understand?”

AR’s black appendages twist slowly in the air as he considers you with an increasingly dangerous air of impatience.

“I have already agreed not to harm him.”

“That’s not what I meant. He needs to make it out of there alive.” You meet AR’s red eyes, putting as much force as you can into your words. “I need you to keep him safe.”

The android stares back at you in deepening anger. He seems especially averse to this idea, more so than any of your other conditions so far, but you’re past caring.

“There’s also one last thing. I’ve been thinking about English, and what will happen to the compound after this,” you say, turning towards the metal door. “It might be better for everyone if we let Bro deal with him later. You can get rid of the rest of his gang, but if you can, try to incapacitate English instead of killing him.”

“Am I to assume that this will be the last of your demands?” he mutters almost sarcastically, following your line of sight to the door.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, and AR doesn’t hesitate before ascending the short flight of stairs. You move to stand behind him, watching his four appendages as they twist slowly, while he appraises the door’s metal surface. “I’ll try to take care of my Bro, but I don’t know what English will do once we’re in there,” you tell him, as he reaches out with one hand and lightly touches the surface with his black fingertips. He’s ignoring you again, and you can see his head move as his eyes follow along the door’s rectangular frame. He pauses for a moment, seeming to consider something, before turning his head to stare at you over his shoulder.

“You are too close. Step back.”

You obey him without arguing, backtracking down the stairs until you’re standing on the flat walkway of the tunnel. He turns to the door again and lifts all four appendages into the air, claws spreading wide into an array of points.

The first one makes a deep, booming sound as it lashes out and hits the door’s surface, the claws digging into the metal and warping it into a circle of reflective dents. He repeats the motion with the other three, slamming into the door one at a time as it’s further warped by the impacts, before there’s a horrific sound of squealing metal, and the door is forcefully pried from its frame. You duck as he flings it past you, letting it crash deafeningly against the tunnel’s walls and floor, and through the empty door frame you can see the command center’s tables and computer consoles, with several wide-eyed men staring in horrified disbelief at the android slowly rising up on its black appendages.

You aren’t sure which happens first, whether it’s the frantic chorus of shouts, the stuttered explosion of gunfire, or the rapid, rhythmic pounding of AR’s claws against the floor, but the room erupts in sudden chaos as he vanishes through the open frame. You follow after him, keeping low to the floor and pressing yourself against the first desk in sight to avoid the bullets ricocheting off of the walls. Something zips through the air close to your ear, and you crawl across the short open space to the next desk before shoving the chair over and ducking underneath it. Among the gunfire and pounding, you can hear the occasional panicked scream and crunch of bones, as English’s deep voice repeatedly orders his men to ‘ _shoot it!_ ’

All you can do for a moment is breathe, while the air around you is filled with the sound of death, before steeling your nerves and crouching on your knees to peer over the top of the desk. One of AR’s appendages comes into view as it latches onto the ceiling, and you watch as a man is flung across the room to crash into a computer console before hitting the wall, while another is lifted into the air by the black limb impaling his stomach.

You scan the room through the pandemonium, and it isn’t long before you spot English, surrounded by several of his gang as they uselessly fire their guns, but your Bro is nowhere to be seen. He angrily shoves one of his men out of the way before trying to walk past them, and you lose sight of him when your eye picks out a flash of blond on the other side of the room.

The bullets whiz over your head as you crouch and quickly make your way between the desks and computer systems. You have to duck briefly as AR passes by above you, overturning a table that crashes to the floor and blocks your path. You climb over it, catching a glimpse of a metal claw in the air with someone’s neck in its grasp, before crouching beneath the last set of desks and finally coming within sight of your Bro where he’s sitting against the wall.

Your stomach twists at the line of blood on his temple, but his eyes are open, and he’s staring back at you with the closest thing to shock you’ve ever seen, as he mouths your name in disbelief. His shades are missing, but he seems otherwise okay, and you approach him carefully, mindful of the ongoing gunfire. There’s a plastic tie around his wrists, but his ankles are tied with a strip of cloth, and you immediately start to work at it with your fingers, before he almost kicks you. “What the fuck are you doing? Get out of here!” he shouts.

“It’s okay!” you half-shout back over the noise, as there’s a scream behind you, followed by a loud crash. You try to untie his ankles again, before another scream pierces the air, and this time it’s a voice you recognize, as your heart suddenly drops.

You stand and glance around the room, catching sight of a familiar figure in a green suit jacket, scrambling backwards on the floor as AR looms over her, his appendages poised to strike.

“Calliope!” you scream, forgetting the bullets and the ongoing danger. “No! Don’t hurt her!”

AR’s head turns as he pauses, glancing at you before a bullet ricochets off of his arm. He lashes out instead at the man holding the gun, before finally rounding on English, still trying to make his way across the room between his few remaining men. You don’t wait to see what happens, meeting Calliope halfway at a run, before taking her trembling hand and pulling her back with you.

“What-” she starts, before you cut her off, kneeling down to yank at the cloth around Bro’s ankles.

“I need you to take Bro out of here and find something sharp to cut his hands free.” You pull the cloth away and leave it on the floor, grabbing your brother’s shoulder to help him stand.

“No, I am _ordering_ the both of you to leave, right now!” He shouts, getting to his feet and shrugging you off. “Get to a checkpoint and-”

He trails off, and you turn just in time to stare straight down the barrel of the rifle pointed at your head, and one of English’s men nervously holding it to your face. He turns it to your Bro, the gun shaking in his grip.

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere! Boss’s orders!” He shouts, before Calliope suddenly screams, and you glance at her to see her terrified eyes fixed on something over your shoulder.

A black appendage snakes its way into your line of sight, latching onto the gun and pulling it from his hands. The man almost turns to run, before he’s suddenly yanked off his feet and lifted by one leg into the air in a smooth arc, before he’s slammed back into the floor with a crash, and two more appendages quickly dig themselves into his back to tear him open. You grab Calliope and pull her away, forcefully taking your Bro’s shoulder in your other hand and breaking his disturbed stare.

“You both need to get out of here!” you tell them, but Bro again yanks his arm out of your hand.

“What the hell is going on, Dirk?” he hisses furiously, and you glance over your shoulder to see AR a short distance away, descending on the final remaining gang member as he attempts to flee with an agonized scream. You search the room for English, before spotting him crawling across the floor with his leg torn open at the knee. He ducks beneath one of the desks, attempting to hide from the android still ripping apart the last of his men. ‘Pathetic,’ you think bitterly, about to turn away as Calliope grabs your arm and tries to pull you toward the door, before you’re suddenly proven irrevocably wrong about English’s actions. The next few moments almost seem to pass by in slow motion.

He staggers up on one knee as he braces himself on the desk, balancing unsteadily on his remaining leg and lifting something heavy in his hand. A rectangular object, with a thick cable at one end, and a solid, rounded tip on the front. You watch in horror as he extends his arm and points it straight at AR, the android’s back still turned as he flings the last mutilated body aside.

Years later, you’ll never understand what went through your head at that moment. The room and everyone in it seemed to freeze in place, Calliope at your side and your Bro urging you towards the door, English standing on one leg with the EMP gun aimed squarely at AR’s back, the android with his glowing red circuits and twisting metal limbs, discarding the last of his victims. You’ve freed the base from English’s sadistic rule, saved your friends in the midst of the fighting, and found your brother, whom you know beyond a doubt will set everything right once it’s all over, but even from this distance, you can see English’s finger resting on the weapon’s trigger- a silent, harmless device to you and everyone else you’ve ever known.

Everyone you’ve ever known, except for one.

Calliope’s fingernails catch on your skin as you break away from her and your Bro, ignoring his angry shout while your feet pound on the floor, the injury in your leg forgotten. You have to jump over one of the scattered desks, almost losing your footing and hitting the floor with your knee, but you immediately scramble back up, shoving another table out of the way and knocking over the chairs next to it, as you frantically close the distance to English. AR turns just in time to see you leap the last few feet and grab onto the gun with all your weight, pulling the weapon to the side in English’s hands, and every computer monitor on the left half of the room suddenly goes black. He wrestles the device from you and uses it as an improvised blunt weapon, mercilessly bringing it down on your forehead with an enraged snarl, and your vision erupts in stars as a blinding pain spearheads its way through your skull from front to back.

The next thing you know, you’re lying on the floor, unable to hear or see clearly, as the pain radiates through your consciousness, consuming your every thought with the ferocity of an oil fire. You can faintly make out a voice yelling in your ear, the hard floor against your side, the wet trickle of something along the bridge of your nose, and English’s feet, lifting into the air as they kick back and forth while something falls to the ground in pieces around him, bits of twisted metal and electrical parts wrapped in wire. The last thing you remember is your name, drifting to you like it was spoken through water, and the feeling of something brushing against your face, before your vision finally blacks out, and you sink down into silence, as the world moves on around you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/91506161251/endangered-10) on Tumblr.

The dreams come to you, one after the other, seemingly without end.

You dream about your friends, sitting together at the table in your tiny living room. Roxy laughs as Jane says something to Jake, and they continue talking in muffled voices. After a while, they all look up and see you, their faces smiling happily. Jake puts his hand on your shoulder and tells you that he’s known all along. You run your fingers through his short, black hair when he hugs you.

You dream about Bro, staring appraisingly through his dark shades as he asks for a report or gives you a new order for the day, keeping the flow of activity through the compound working smoothly, benefiting everyone. He approves of something you’ve done. He admonishes you for something you shouldn’t have done. He says your name, then screams it. He looks at you, and his shades are missing.

You dream about the city, picking through the empty ruins of a dead civilization, searching for treasures of canned food and unbroken electronic devices, batteries, medicine, gasoline. Jake and the others are with you, searching the rubble for anything they can bring home. You dig through the dust and debris with your bare hands, finding a flash drive buried in the rocks.

You dream about English, and his leering glare every time you pass him in the tunnels. The colors on his coat seem to flash as he opens his mouth, teeth chipped away at the edges into sharpened points, as he tells you that death is an inevitability. His hand finds your throat, then it’s your Bro’s throat, and you’re watching from some distance away, unable to move, as English slowly crushes his windpipe.

You dream about AR.

He walks alongside you through the tunnels, speaking to you in his metallic voice, while you turn to greet one of your friends as they walk past in the opposite direction. He’s holding out one of his claws to you, asking for something, and you take the metal points in your hands before bringing them to your neck. You’re on your back, and he’s over you, wrapped around you, whispering in your ear, tearing a hole in your stomach with one of his hands. When you try to scream, he tears off your jaw with the other. English stands with the EMP gun pointed at him as AR turns his back, but you don’t move this time, and his circuits go dark as his metal body crumples to the floor. He’s with you in the city as your group digs through the rubble for supplies, his appendages gone and his skin flesh-colored like yours. You stand next to him on the rooftop of a hollow building and look down at your hands, seeing the glowing, angular lines of orange circuitry in your black skin. You’re in the waterworks with him again, in the tunnel with the open hatch door, and you put a hand out and press it to his chest, then slide it over his shoulder. When you kiss him, he pushes you away. When you kiss him, he kisses you back. When you kiss him, he tears off your head and crushes your eyes with his fingers. The pain almost feels like it’s real, and Jane’s voice drifts to your ears, over a strange grinding sound.

You inhale.

The pain lingers as your eyes open, seeing nothing but blurred shapes and colors. You lift a hand to your head, and your fingers press against a thick cloth. When you swallow, your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, and when you try to lift your head, the pain gets exponentially worse, until you’re squeezing your eyes shut and taking shallow, panting breaths. You stay motionless until it fades back to a more bearable level, and cautiously open your eyes to look around the room.

It’s the infirmary again.

This isn’t the first time you’ve woken up here, but last time there were people around when you opened your eyes. Now you’re alone, lying in one of the small cots with a thin blanket tucked around your body. When you move to pull it off, something tugs on the inside of your elbow, and you carefully turn your head to see a thin, plastic tube running from where it’s taped to your arm, to the IV bag hung on the wall.

You give up trying to remove the blanket and relax into the bed, your every thought feeling like it’s wrapped in a fog. Closing your eyes against the light, you try to remember the last thing that happened to you.

English. You remember his face, twisted in anger as you tried to pull something out of his hands. He’d been holding it when you jumped at him and grabbed it. Something mechanical, like a rectangular box of metal and wired parts.

An electromagnetic gun, pointed straight at AR’s back.

You practically jump out of the bed, and your vision instantly erupts in stars at the sudden motion, with a splitting pain that has you holding your breath in agony. There’s a sound like quick footsteps, before someone is pushing you back down, and you squint at the vague forms of two people, one of them leaning over to the nearby desk, before returning and pressing their fingers to your lips. Something small and hard, like a bead, is placed on your tongue when you finally part them, and what feels like the rim of a cup is then held to your mouth. You swallow it, unable to think any further beyond the recognition of what must be a pill and water. The activity seems to have exhausted you already, and you relax again into the soft bed, as the murmur of voices drifts across your ears. You remember the EMP gun. You remember English pulling it out of your hands, and then you were lying on the floor a moment later, watching his feet slowly lift into the air. It feels like another lifetime, but you remember it all.

‘AR,’ your mind whispers, as your thoughts slip back into dreams. This time, it’s nonsensical and bizarrely vivid. By the time you wake up again, it feels like it’s been ages since you last opened your eyes.

The room is darker than before, the door closed and only one of the several bulbs hung from the ceiling in use. Your head still hurts, but the pain is dull and distant. The IV line is gone, along with the bag that was hanging on the wall, but something is still wrapped around your head, like an oversized bandage. When you try to sit up, your body feels even weaker than before, and a sudden, gentle pressure against your left shoulder stops you.

You turn your head, to see a folding chair set up next to the bed and the figure sitting in it, his shades pushed up to rest in his blond hair. They’re a different pair than the ones he had before, but you don’t bother wondering what happened to them.

“Bro?” you whisper, having meant to say his name louder, but your throat feels like sand.

“How do you feel?” he asks, removing his hand from your shoulder once you relax. “Are you in pain?”

You hear the question, but your mind still seems like it’s running in slow motion, and you lose your focus as he waits for an answer. The memory of his hands tied and the gun pointed at the back of his head lingers as a vivid mental image, through the grainy static of the compound’s cameras.

“Dirk.” He says your name to get your attention, and repeats the question when you blink at him. His eyes are red, and they remind you of something vitally important.

“A little,” you murmur, trying to clear your throat. “Where’s AR?”

He stares at you silently for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he turns away and reaches for something on the table by your bed. An orange pill bottle is uncapped in his hand, and he removes one of them before recapping it and setting it aside. His other hand is already holding a cup of water, and he brings the pill to your mouth.

“Open up,” he says softly, and you obey, letting him place it between your teeth. He steadies the cup with one hand while you drink and gently supports the back of your head with the other. When you’re finished, he sets it back on the table. You’re desperately thirsty all of a sudden, but you ignore the unpleasant feeling.

“Where’s AR?” you say again, unable to care about your brother’s reaction to the question, as your fear at his silence gradually rises.

“The android is gone,” he finally says, almost tonelessly. “It left after you got knocked out. That was almost a week ago.”

You exhale, closing your eyes.

He left without you.

It doesn’t make sense. Everything he did for you, all the frustration he put himself through (and you could tell that every request you made was wearing on his nerves towards the end), he somehow decided at the very end to leave without the one thing he came for. He wanted you badly enough to let you direct his actions, however briefly, and he saved the lives of your friends- of human beings. You didn’t even know that was possible for someone like him. None of it makes any sense.

“English is dead,” Bro says, pulling you back from your wandering thoughts. “He was in pieces by the end of it. There wasn’t enough of him left to bury.” He takes his shades from the top of his head and folds them, placing them on the table by your bed. You have a bad feeling about the gesture. “Calliope is alive.” He says the words almost casually, and the period of silence that follows is intentional. You can almost feel yourself shrinking under his stare. “But that doesn’t surprise you at all, does it?”

“Bro…” you whisper, almost pleadingly, but for what, you aren’t sure. His expression doesn’t change.

“Did I ever tell you how many people we started this compound with?” He leans back in the chair, folding his hands together over his knee. “You were still a baby then. Lalonde and I rounded up almost a hundred people on our own to fortify these tunnels, and once it was safe, that number tripled.” He breathes out lightly, looking down at his hands for a long, silent moment. “English was one of the first to show up after the fortifications were done, and right from the start, he wanted to shut the compound off to any more ‘refugees,’ as he called them. We didn’t have enough resources for everyone, but we weren’t about to start turning people away.”

You aren’t sure where he’s going with this, but the sound of his voice is almost soothing, despite the situation and the topic of conversation. He’s still watching you as he speaks, making sure that you’re paying attention.

“We didn’t want to take on a leadership role.” He taps his fingers against his knee thoughtfully, his eyes distant. “The compound was supposed to work for the good of everyone, in the interest of mutual survival, but once English started pressuring the right people and openly consolidating power, we didn’t have much of a choice. Your friend’s grandmother eventually got us on board with the idea, but it was too late to keep English’s built-up influence from causing problems. There wasn’t much we could do after that, apart from having him assassinated.” He regards you silently. “None of this would’ve happened if we had just taken control from the start, but we were younger then,” he shakes his head, “and stupid, and naive.”

His words are sour, clashing painfully with the childish image you’ve held onto all these years of him as a benevolent, infallible figure, but you still recognize the truth in them. You’ve hero-worshiped him for so long, it had to happen eventually, but it doesn’t make it any less surreal and dissonant.

“This entire compound was supporting just under two hundred people when English started his armed takeover last week.” He pauses, looking at you silently for a moment. “Now we’re down to fifty.”

Your heart sinks, and you shut your eyes, but he isn’t finished.

“They killed everyone who wasn’t a guard or a technician,” he says, his voice soft, “along with everyone who fought back. Lalonde and the old lady would’ve made the cut, if they hadn’t picked up a gun.”

‘Roxy’s mother,’ your mind whispers mournfully, and your eyes sting as you picture them together. Her mom was in the command center and maintenance labs so often, it felt like you hardly ever saw her, but she was a tall, thin woman with a quiet presence who always seemed to be observing everyone around her with a keen insight. You knew she was close to your Bro, and that they had known each other as kids before all of civilization came to an end, but it was hard to tell exactly what their relationship had been. Bro’s expression is resigned, but then again, he’s had an entire week to come to terms with it, while your own heart feels like it’s breaking.

“What about Jane’s dad?” you whisper. His eyebrows rise a little.

“He’s fine. The kitchen is close to an exit point, and he made it out with a few others when the fighting started.”

You sigh, holding on to that single shred of good news, while the rest of you feels like it’s drowning in misery. “I want to see my friends.”

“You will.” He folds his hands again and regards you seriously. “But first, I think we need to have a conversation about exactly what happened six days ago.”

There it is. You were hoping he wouldn’t bring it up, but you knew he would eventually, and you’re not getting out of this until he’s satisfied.

“I’ve already debriefed your friends, but I want to hear it from you this time. From the beginning.” he says with finality. You resist the urge to argue, wishing that he would at least wait until you don’t feel like you’re half asleep to grill you about this.

From the beginning, he says.

Your thoughts are still foggy, but you can remember the beginning well enough. The flash drive, the bargain you made, the jagged piece of metal. He listens as you recount the event in a slow, tired monologue. Part of it he already knows, back from when Roxy had to purge the network the first time, but he wasn’t aware of the details, especially when you transition into the night Jane went missing. He’s silent as you tell him about what happened, how the android waited for you at the drugstore and ambushed you, chasing you into the subway tunnels, and how he held your neck between his claws. His expression doesn’t change as he listens to how you wrapped the cable around AR’s neck and fled to the checkpoint, and how you were almost caught at the last moment. Then, you finally get to the day of English’s coup, when you snuck out of the compound with Roxy and met with Jake and Jane.

“I remembered the flash drive,” you tell him, picturing their hopeful faces as you told them you had a plan. “I knew it was a long shot, but I didn’t see any other options.” You lean back against the pillow, now at your back since Bro helped you into a sitting position towards the start of your story. “I figured if I could get his help, we could get rid of English for good. I knew he was angry after losing me in the subway, and I thought maybe I could use that. To save everyone.” He waits patiently as you pause, unsure of how to continue. “I didn’t have any other choice. There was nothing any of us could have done, and it was the only thing I could think of at the time.”

“Keep going,” he says tonelessly, watching as you hesitate, conflicted. You want to lie about the next part, like you did to your friends, but you know it would be useless to even try.

“We got back to my room, and I contacted AR.” You lower your eyes, picking at the thin blanket with your fingers. “I made him an offer, and he accepted. In return for killing English and his gang, I would let him do whatever he wanted to me when it was over, if he stuck to my terms and didn’t hurt anyone he wasn’t supposed to. I promised I’d go with him willingly, at the end.”

Your brother frowns slightly, but says nothing, and he doesn’t seem all that surprised by your words. He might have already guessed it, the way you suspected Roxy had before. You let out another shaky breath, just wanting this to be over.

“I let him in through the waterworks, and took him into the base’s tunnels. You know the rest from there.” He’s silent when you finally finish, fidgeting with your hands as you wait for him to say something, before a thought occurs to you. “What happened after I got knocked out?” you ask, looking up at him. He meets your eyes silently.

“You had a severe head injury,” he says quietly. “We had to remove a chunk of your skull to keep your brain from swelling up and killing you. It’ll be replaced again in about a week. Until then, try not to touch your head, and don’t take off the bandages.”

That explains the pain from before. It’s better than it was when you first woke up, but there’s still that spot on the front of your head that feels like someone’s grinding their fist into a bruise every time you move.

“What about AR?” you ask again. Bro knew what you meant the first time, but for some reason, he seems reluctant to talk about the android.

“I already told you, it left after tearing English apart, along with one of our six remaining electromagnetic weapons.” He reaches for his shades on the desk and slips them back on. They’re slightly smaller than the ones he had before, and the lenses are darker, to the point where you can’t see his eyes anymore. “I guess it decided not to bother with you after all.”

He’s lying.

You aren’t sure of a lot of things when it comes to your Bro, but right now, you can tell without a doubt that he’s lying to you about AR. The realization comes with a stab of fear as he stands to leave, but there’s nothing you can think of to say. If you accuse him of it or repeat the question, he’ll just brush you off, and your mind grasps for what he could possibly be hiding from you. Once again, your thoughts return to that last encounter with English, and you almost jump when Bro puts a hand on your shoulder.

“How’s the pain now? Does it feel any better?” he asks, and you nod slowly. “Good. Try to get some rest. Your friends can visit you tomorrow, if you’re awake.” He squeezes your shoulder gently, his voice quiet. “You did well, keeping them safe. I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

His sudden, heartfelt statement puts you at a loss for words, and you watch as he leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him. A week ago, you would have treasured those words as a very rare expression of affection, but now, with everything else he’s said, it just strikes you as definitively suspicious, and the coil of fear in your stomach quickly gets worse.

Carefully, you try to roll onto your side, despite the heavy, leaden feeling in your limbs and the way your head spins at the movement. Your shades are still folded on the desk next to the bottle of pills and glass of water, and you manage of grab them at the very end of your reach, lying on your back and taking a moment to breathe after the effort. You unfold the stems and put them on, the screen dark in hibernation from the lack of use, but when you tap the side to wake it, nothing happens.

Frowning, you tap the side again, then try mentally booting up the computer, and the screen finally lights up, but all you see is a blank display.

Your desktop is missing. The icons that used to sit along the edge of it are also gone, along with the time and CPU indicators at the bottom. You try to open a program, any program, but there’s no response. It’s like your hard drive’s been completely wiped.

“Fuck…” you whisper, giving up and dropping the shades back onto the desk. Something might have happened when AR used them to show you the security footage, but you can’t shake the feeling that it was something else entirely. It’s been almost a week since you lost consciousness, and that would have given anyone plenty of time to delete the operating system from your built-in computer, if they wanted to.

You lie on your back in the quiet room, replaying the conversation with your Bro, trying to find the inconsistencies in his words, as an ominous feeling settles in the back of your mind. In the end, you’re unable to figure it out before sleep comes again, and it feels like less of a dream, and more of a memory- something wrapped tight around your body and a hushed voice, an almost painful warmth clashing with the feeling of a cold surface against your back, and voices above you, murmuring things back and forth you can’t quite understand. Something presses to your forehead and tingles against your skin like electricity. It’s only later that you realize your Bro should have asked more questions about what happened, that he was strangely silent after your explanation, as though he already knew the answers.

You forget the dream by morning.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/91819658526/endangered-11) on Tumblr.

\-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

TG: rolal to distri do u copy?  
TG: yo dirky  
TT: I’m here.  
TG: whats my eta this shits takin forEVERR  
TT: The compiler says it’s just under halfway done.  
TG: god fucking damnit my arms gettin tired  
TG: why couldnt they build this thing with a port that actually fits wtf  
TT: It’s old technology, and whoever developed it probably also had specialized cables made at the time.  
TG: yeah well we dont have any of that shit  
TG: cant i just tape this thing together? whytf do i have to stand here and hold it in??  
TG: im getting a cramp  
TT: Because if it falls out, we’ll have to start over.  
TT: I mean, I’m cool with that, seeing as how I’m once again spending my entire shift sitting at this damn computer console, but if you really want to play the odds that bad, you can totally put some tape on it and hope for the best.  
TG: nuh uh nope you are not guilt trippin me over having to keep your tight little ass put  
TT: Wow.  
TG: see this is how fucking serious i am, you though i was joking but now shits gettin real  
TG: how much is left what does it say?  
TT: 49%  
TG: fuuuuccckkk  
TT: Why don’t you just switch hands?  
TG: cause i dont wanna mess with it too much just in case it decides to ruin the remainder of my entire day  
TG: speakin of which did mr sunshine ever show up?  
TT: Nope, and I’m hoping it stays that way.  
TG: yeah well im hopin this fuckin thing finishes downloading soon before my arm falls off  
TT: Do you want some cheese to go with that?  
TG: wuuut are you talkin about  
TT: Nothing, just something my Bro always says.  
TG: heh very funny yeah right NOT  
TT: How are you typing this fast with only one hand?  
TG: dirky my boi u would be surprised at what i can do with one hand  
TT: Nevermind, let’s talk about something else.  
TT: Shit.  
TG: what  
TT: Guess who just showed up.  
TG: and only two hours late dang that must be a record or something

 

You close Pesterchum and turn to face the approaching figure slowly making his way towards you in the low light of the maintenance lab’s entrance. Caliborn seems to have a permanent sneer on his face these days, especially when you’re around. He’s carrying something in his hand, and he practically drops it on the table near the entrance, already cluttered with half-broken equipment.

“You know, if it’s already not working, you probably shouldn’t drop it on the table like that,” you tell him offhandedly, and he lifts his middle finger at you.

“Fuck you, Strider.” It’s a favorite phrase of his now, and you raise an eyebrow at him when he turns to leave.

“Aren’t you supposed to hang around until it’s fixed? Your checkpoint needs it back ASAP, dude. They can’t really go on without it.”

He visibly seethes at you and crosses his arms, leaning against the entrance tunnel’s wall, as you slide out of the chair to retrieve the broken communication device from the intake table. The screen is on, but it’s displaying nothing but black lines on a gray background, and you’re hoping it’s something quick and easy, like a faulty connection. You don’t want Caliborn around any more than he wants to be here. His eyes follow you, glaring bitterly, as you find a relatively empty workbench and turn the device over, unscrewing the panel from the back.

It’s been almost a month since English’s attack on the compound. You were released from the infirmary after they replaced the part of your skull they had to remove, and the staples in your head are now a permanent reminder of the injury you sustained. Jane told you she didn’t even know it was possible to let someone’s brain expand out of their head like that, and she never wants to see anything like it again. Apparently no one had ever done that procedure before, and they weren’t even sure you’d make it through the surgery alive. You’ve never had so many different drugs in your body before- antibiotics, painkillers, anesthetics, everything they’ve been reserving for the life-threatening cases. It’s not something you want to relive ever again, if you can help it.

After another week of mandated inactivity in your living quarters, during which you were barred from doing literally anything except eating and sleeping, your Bro dropped your multitude of training requirements/punishments and finally let you go back to work, although you’re still not allowed to do anything too physical. Roxy was reassigned to maintenance with you after the attack, and Jane is now working full-time in the infirmary, while Jake was sent to one of the checkpoints in the tunnels as a guard-in-training. Caliborn was also reassigned to guard duty, but at a different checkpoint, to everyone’s relief.

Roxy was called out on a job today by one of the compound’s few remaining scavenging teams after they found an old military tent with a computer unit inside. She’s been transferring the large amount of data on the hard drive remotely, while you simultaneously compile it and store it in the compound’s systems for later. Meanwhile, you’re stuck with restricted physical activity, as an order from Jane and the rest of the infirmary, which means sitting in front of the maintenance lab’s main console and doing urgent repair jobs as needed. There were two others assigned to maintenance with you and Roxy, but one is out troubleshooting a malfunctioning generator (again), and the other is out sick, leaving you to take care of everything in their absence.

You’re still getting used to the compound’s drastically reduced population. There used to be someone around every corner in the tunnels, working and going about their daily business, but now it’s almost unreal how quiet things are.

It’s been hard on your friends. Jake was upset for a long time over his grandmother, but Roxy almost didn’t stop crying for an entire week. She visited you every day in the infirmary, and Jane told you over changing your bandages, that she was now sleeping with Roxy in her bedroom. By the time you were released, Jane was happy to switch places with you. Roxy still climbs into your bed at night sometimes, but she never wants to talk about the nightmares she’s been having.

You glance at the console’s screen across the room to see the progress indicator at 51%, as you remove the back of the communication device and pry the battery out of its holder. Caliborn is still brooding at the entrance, and you couldn’t care less how unhappy he is about it. He was always unpleasant to you and your friends, but ever since the attack that claimed the lives of over half the compound’s population, he’s been far nastier and openly belligerent. Even though there was no doubt in your mind that he was involved with the armed takeover, and probably killed his fair share of people, he later told everyone that his dad had threatened him, and that his sister was just as guilty of going along with it. For whatever reason, your brother allowed him to stay, while the few remaining gang members still alive in the tunnels were kicked out of the compound at gunpoint. Their dead comrades were incinerated, and their victims buried in a mass grave.

You remove the next layer of plating in the device, and carefully pick through the wires for any broken connections. Caliborn might have been allowed to stay, but you’d argued with your Bro against it, and he didn’t listen, no matter what you said. It wasn’t much of a surprise at the time. He’s been strangely distant with you since the incident with English, even though you’d risked everything to save his life, but your conversations with him have been even more brief and business-like than before. Part of you is worried about him, but you still haven’t forgotten the way he lied to you about AR.

There’s been no sign of the android ever since.

It doesn’t help that your shades were somehow completely wiped into a useless piece of eyewear. You want to fix them, but you have to finish repairing your laptop first so you can replace the custom operating system. After the infirmary finally released you back to your living quarters, you’d found that Bro had confiscated the flash drive from Roxy, and then later had the device destroyed. She’d also been ordered to purge the network again, and even though you’re left with no way of contacting AR like you did before, you haven’t giving up trying to figure out what happened.

You spot the broken wire tucked along the side of the receiver chip, and gently separate it out with the edge of your tool, before cutting and stripping it to twist it back together. Your hands work quickly and efficiently, but your mind wanders back to that first week after your release, when you started trying to uncover what your Bro wasn’t telling you. Calliope knew something about what happened, but you couldn’t get her to talk, no matter how much you asked and pleaded with her. It was obvious that someone had ordered her to stay silent, and your Bro wouldn’t respond when you accused him of it. Jake and the others hadn’t known anything useful about the aftermath, even though they apparently checked the command center after freeing the hostages in the maintenance lab. Apparently they hadn’t come across anyone in the tunnels, apart from the mutilated bodies of AR’s victims, and even if Bro tried to order them into silence, you’d know if they were lying to you.

It doesn’t add up.

Nothing on the face of this Earth could have prevented AR from taking you after the fighting was over. You’d angered him and inconvenienced him, ordered him around, restricted his killing instinct in the interest of saving your friends, and you were almost sure he was going to tear your head off by the end of it, but when the time came, something must have happened to stop him. Your brother won’t talk, and neither will Calliope, the only two people alive who were there when it happened.

You pinch the twisted wire between your fingers, reaching for the soldering gun while Caliborn lingers silently in the entryway, his expression dark. Even though it would have meant your death, you’re unsettled at how things didn’t go as planned. Your Bro’s behavior has been increasingly suspicious ever since, and these days, despite the new struggles of a reduced population and a lack of skilled members in the colony, there’s only one thing that keeps you awake at night, when the dull pain in your head returns after a long day of work.

You need to know what happened to AR.

Roxy agreed to help you, after you spent a long night awake with her in your room. You finally came clean to someone about everything, telling her that you haven’t stopped thinking about the android since he vanished, that you’ve been having dreams about him, that you were having similar dreams before. The others don’t know that you saved him from English’s EMP gun (he might not have been expecting an android attack, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t prepared for anything, and you can’t help but blame yourself for what happened). She listened silently, with a brooding frown, as you told her that his unexplained absence and the possibilities of what might have happened to him are practically driving you mad. You’ve been having nightmares yourself recently, ones that always end with his crumpled body on the floor. Sometimes English is holding the gun, and sometimes it’s your Bro. Once it was you, the device heavy in your hand, and you woke up shaking all over at the lingering image of his red eyes going dim as he died in front of you. There’s something terminally wrong with you, when it comes to him. You aren’t sure if Roxy thought your proposal through very well, but she did agree to help you in secret, even if it means she might get in serious trouble with your Bro.

The security footage was the first place you tried to look. AR had disrupted the live feed from the cameras to the command center, but the cameras themselves still should have recorded to a backup file in the network. When you finally got Roxy to hack Bro’s password and check the files, everything from the day English attacked the base was missing. The video footage had been deleted, and you were miserably disappointed, but not surprised.

Roxy said she might be able to recover them, given enough time, but you’ve both been swamped with repair work at the maintenance lab. Everyone’s working overtime to fix the damage done by the fighting and modify the base for a smaller population, and she’s had very little time to spare, but you already owe her just for being willing to help you. It hurts to admit that you can’t trust Jane and Jake enough to do the same without ratting you out to your Bro, but you know it’s only because they’re worried about you. That’s not to say that Roxy isn’t, but unlike them, she seems to understand exactly what this means to you. You aren’t sure how that makes you feel. You’re only beginning to admit to yourself that you might have fallen in love with a hostile, inhuman entity that tried to kill you multiple times, and it’s a concept that makes you feel more broken and damaged than any piece of nonfunctional machinery in this entire compound.

In the meantime, you try not to obsess over it too much. You aren’t always successful, but having a week’s worth of repair jobs backed up definitely keeps you busy. The fresh solder cools when you blow on it, and the plating fits easily back into place. Caliborn scowls when you approach him.

“Here. Try not to jostle it around too much.” You hold the communicator out to him, and he almost seems like he’s not going to take it from you, until he suddenly snatches it out of your hand after a long, awkward moment. “You’re welcome,” you mutter at his back as he stalks out of the tunnel. Good riddance.

You sigh, massaging the faint ache on the side of your head and feeling the bump of a surgical staple under your skin. When you return to the chair in front of the console, the progress indicator is at 53%. Roxy might complain, but she told you last week that she misses going out into the city with you and the others. You haven’t breathed the outside air, felt the wind on your face, or seen the stars in ages, and you know exactly how she feels.

You decide not to message her again, just in case she gets distracted and accidentally breaks the connection, because this transfer really does seem like it’s taking forever. Instead, you pass the time by working through a few of the broken devices on the intake desk. Almost four hours later, you’re halfway through reassembling a radio transceiver after fruitlessly digging around inside of it for the problem, when Roxy finally emerges from the entryway, looking tired, but satisfied. She grins and crosses the room to where you’re sitting, draping her arms over your shoulders as you abandon the project.

“Hey, my sweet honey bunny, you miss me?” she says with an exaggerated drawl. You smile back at her, because she knows you did.

“Yep. How’d it go?”

“Fine, I guess, although I dunno what they think they’re gonna get out of that old hard drive. That thing was ancient, and it took forever to boot up when I connected the battery.” She releases you and flops down in one of the nearby chairs at another workbench. “Ugh, this day can’t end fast enough. How much longer ‘til we can blow this joint?”

You make a hesitant sound, glancing over at the intake table, still piled high with broken equipment. “I don’t know, Rox. We should probably try to get through some of this, especially since we’re short-handed today.”

“Nah, screw that noise, I’ve got a better idea,” she leans towards you, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Guess what I managed to finish today while I was waitin’ for that hard drive to compile.” You blink at her, before shrugging, defeated. Her smile spreads into something almost feline. “No one can hide data from this top tier hacker fox. I’ve got a present for you when we get back to my room…a certain set of footage someone’s been tryin’ ta get their mits on.”

Your eyes widen, and she grins knowingly.

“Did you watch it?”

“Nope, I figured you’d want to do the honors.” She sits back in the chair with an air of satisfaction, and you resist the rising surge of adrenaline telling you to leave the maintenance labs immediately and watch the footage. There’s no way you’re going to be able to concentrate now, and she pretends that her attention is elsewhere while you contact the other member of your workforce, telling him that your head is hurting, and he agrees that you should probably cut it short today.

She follows you out of the maintenance lab and through the tunnels, walking alongside you amiably, while your stomach is busy doing somersaults and cartwheels.

“B-t-dubs, how’d your visit with Calli’s evil twin go?” she asks, waving to someone she recognizes as they walk past in the other direction.

“Same as always.” Your reply is distracted, but she clicks her tongue thoughtfully.

“Jakey said they all had to do some kinda firearm training yesterday, and the fucker actually glared at him the entire time. I still can’t believe your brother let him stay, the lying sack of shit.” The two of you turn the corner and ascend a flight of stairs to a long tunnel that leads towards the living area. Your mind plays over the memory of following AR through the compound, safely watching from behind him as he dispatched English’s gang one at a time. You can still remember the way his pointed claws felt against your face. “I get that we’re hard up for workers and all, but still.”

She goes on to talk about today’s mission into the city, detailing a particular member of the scavenging team that escorted her, who apparently had a nice pair of cheekbones. You try your hardest to listen politely and nod at the right moments, but she seems to understand when you’re too distracted to reply to her questions. When the door to your rooms appears around the last corner, you open it and immediately make a beeline for her bedroom. Your laptop is still too damaged to play videos, but she’s got an overabundance of computers stocked up from years of scavenging for parts.

You wait at the desk with her favorite laptop, the same one you used a month ago to contact AR. She ushers you aside and sits down, typing away at the keyboard while you try not to pace around the room.

“Ok, so the files are listed by the serial number on the camera they came from,” she says, bringing up a window that shows a list of numbers and letters. “I haven’t figured out which is which yet, but the command center has two of them. The footage rolls over at midnight, so you’ll wanna fast forward to when all that shit went down.” She stands up and gives you a reassuring smile at your visible anxiety, gently squeezing the side of your shoulder. “Let me know when you’re done so I can encrypt these puppies. I think your bro might skin us alive if he finds out.”

“Thanks, Rox,” you say, heartfelt, and she gives you one last grin before leaving you alone with her laptop and its open window.

Your fingers tremble as you sit down, facing the row of video files. The first one shows an empty hallway, the clock at the bottom reading ‘00:00:01’ as it begins playing. You go down the list, opening and closing videos as each one reveals an overhead view of a hallway, until you finally reach one that shows a familiar scene- the command center, with its metal door open and a small handful of figures going about their business during the night shift.

Carefully, you advance the slider at the bottom until you take it too far, and the door is gone, bent and warped on the floor in the tunnel beyond. You rewind it until you see the man with the scarf tied around his arm standing next to it, and English standing in front of the console on the other side of the room, while your Bro is noticeably absent. The time reads ‘05:48:14.’

You sit and watch the footage, counting the minutes along with the flashing indicator at the bottom. After a few minutes pass, the metal door suddenly warps in one spot, and you watch as everyone in the room appears startled at the sound. The metal warps again three more times, before it buckles inwards slowly, and the door is pulled away from its frame. The image is black and white, but you can still recognize AR, and your heart twists painfully when you see him. You can also barely make out yourself behind him, crouching down on the flight of steps. He rises up on his four appendages, looking around with a predatory stare at the group of doomed people inside, before vanishing at the bottom of the screen with a flurry of motion almost too fast to see. You watch yourself duck into the room a moment later, before losing sight of yourself under a table, and you can already tell from the angle of the footage that this isn’t the video file you need.

Impatiently, you rifle through the rest of them, opening and closing almost a dozen files before finding the one you want, showing a wide section of the command center, including the spot you know English was standing when he tried to kill AR. You fast-forward to the time you stopped the last video, and watch as one of English’s men is lifted into the air by his neck, before he’s thrown across the room. The desks are scattered, and the flash of gunfire flickers silently on the screen, as AR moves fluidly around the room, killing anyone unfortunate enough to catch his eye.

You advance the footage slowly, as your heart flutters nervously in your chest. The number of gang members on the screen decreases steadily, until only four figures remain. You watch yourself pulling on Bro’s arm as he shrugs you off, while Calliope lingers anxiously next to you, and AR approaches the last of English’s men, pinning him down with one appendage and puncturing his rib cage with the other. English is visible on the other side of the screen, still low to the ground. Bro says something to you, before Calliope takes your arm, trying to pull you away. You watch as English stands up with the EMP gun in his hand, and AR tosses aside the mutilated man’s body. Even through the grainy camera footage, you can see your own expression slowly warping into horror at the sight.

You watch yourself run across the room, jumping over one desk and shoving another out of your way, then grabbing the EMP gun and pulling it to the side as AR turns around. English pulls the gun out of your hands and hits you with it as the android advances on him, and your body falls to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. There’s a metal claw around his throat a moment later, and the gun is snatched out of the air to be crushed and pulled apart into pieces by two more of AR’s appendages while English’s feet kick against the vice around his neck. Calliope lingers next to your Bro on the other side of the screen, watching as her father is quickly torn into pieces in front of her. All four of AR’s claws seem to dig away at him, until he’s nothing but a dangling torso, and even less of him is left by the time the android finally drops him. You can’t imagine how she must have felt. Her relationship with him always seemed far too complicated for you to understand, but you still feel bad for her.

AR seems to pause after throwing English’s remains aside, staring down at you still sprawled out on the floor where you fell. He approaches you slowly, leaning over you, reaching out a hand to your closed eyes. You think you see your Bro’s mouth move, as he takes a step forward, while Calliope lingers behind him, and she backs away when the android’s head lifts to stare at him. AR straightens up over you, and it takes you a moment to realize that his mouth is moving too, as the two of them seem to enter some kind of standoff. They’re talking to each other, and in this moment, you’d give up your left eye just to hear what they were saying. Suddenly, one of AR’s appendages slams hard into the ground, and both Calliope and your Bro jump at the sound. He’s still talking, but his limbs are twisting around in the air, like he’s agitated.

The android turns away, back to where you’re lying on the ground. He leans over you again and straightens up a moment later with you cradled in his arms, one of his black tentacles wrapped around you securely.

He tried to leave with you.

You knew it. Bro lied when he said AR had left immediately, and now you have the truth in front of you, as AR holds you in his arms, and a small, damaged voice in the back of your mind wishes desperately that you could remember it. He approaches your Bro standing between him and the door, and you hold your breath as your brother squares his shoulders at the android. Calliope backs away from the two of them to stand against the wall, as your Bro’s mouth starts to move again.

AR seems to pause in front of him, listening to whatever he’s saying. Then, the android moves around him, circling your brother as he stands in place, his posture stiff. When AR steps away, he suddenly lifts his hands from where they were held behind him, rubbing at his wrists.

“What the…?” you whisper, watching as your brother says something to AR again, before turning and walking towards the missing door. He gestures at Calliope, who nods and moves away from them, before he walks out of the command center, and you watch in confusion as AR follows him, still cradling you in his arms as his other appendages brace themselves against the floor while he walks. They leave together, and Calliope exits a moment later from the other side of the room, heading in a different direction. You stare at the screen for a long moment, unable to understand what you just saw.

The door in the living room opens, and you can hear Jake’s voice mingling with Roxy’s. She’s immediately engaging him in conversation, trying to distract him from asking about you, and you’ll have to do something especially nice to pay her back for everything she’s done for you lately. You start over at the top of the list and click through each file, advancing the footage to the right time and searching the hallways for any sign of your Bro and AR. You catch a glimpse of them from a different angle, walking past the end of a long corridor. AR still has you in his arms, and your Bro seems to be leading him away from the command center, but it’s hard to tell where they’re going. You open and close every video file almost six times before you’re able to track them, little by little, to a room with an old-fashioned door and a knob on the side. You watch from above as Bro opens it and leads him through, but the room is dark, and you can’t see past the narrow frame before the door closes.

Jane’s voice suddenly mixes in with the others as she returns from her shift. You hear your name as she asks about you like she always does, and Roxy’s reply is too muffled for you to make out. Whatever she told her, it must have worked, because she doesn’t try to look for you. It sounds like the three of them might be seated around the table, and you try to work quickly, before your luck runs out. You check almost every video file in the list before reaching the bottom, and one of the last few of them reveals an overhead view of a room you had ignored before, since the footage had been too dark. Now several rows of bright lights mounted in the ceiling wash out the top of the image, and below them is a metal table in the center of a large room. The walls are flanked by desks and shelves, filled with equipment you’ve never seen before, from tools to cloth, small bottles, and jars. Jane’s voice comes in through the door again, and the recognition clicks- it’s the infirmary. You can practically see the white walls and tiled floor every time you close your eyes now, but you’ve never seen this part of it before.

Bro steps away from the switch on the wall while AR carries you to the table in the center of the room and leans over it. When he straightens up again, you’re left lying on your back on the metal surface, with two of AR’s appendages draped over you almost possessively, their clawed tips latched onto the edges of the table. Your Bro’s mouth is moving now, and AR says something in reply as one of his black hands lifts to cover your forehead while he talks. The android seems agitated again, and your Bro shakes his head at him silently.

The metal appendages retract as AR suddenly turns and walks across the room to one of the desks. He lifts a hand to the back of his neck, then brings it to one of the system units next to a computer monitor and pauses as he waits for something. A few moments pass, before he removes it and turns to face your Bro, his mouth moving silently as his metal limbs twist in the air. Your brother says something back to him, and AR listens to whatever it is, before gesturing at him almost angrily, then at you. A moment later he turns away towards the door, and just like that, he exits the room. Your brother stands over you silently, and doesn’t watch the android leave. He stares down at you with a hand resting on the metal table, his head bowed.

You close the video file in a daze, struggling to comprehend what you just saw. You click through the other files, watching AR make his way through the compound until he finds a maintenance tunnel into the waterworks and descends into it, vanishing from sight. He must have left the compound the same way he came in, but none of this explains what your Bro was lying to you about.

The infirmary. AR did something to the computer there, and you need to know what, if you’re going to have any chance of figuring this out. You close the window on Roxy’s laptop and stand, making your way into the living room, where she’s sitting with Jane on one of the couches. Jake’s bedroom door is closed.

“Good afternoon, Dirk,” Jane says pleasantly. She looks tired too, like you all are after working enough shifts for multiple people. “How did you feel today? Any more headaches?”

“Nope, I’m good so far,” you smile casually, resting your arms on the back of the armchair. Jane hums softly.

“It must have been a slow day, if the two of you are back this early.”

“Yeah, well, what’re ya gonna do,” Roxy stretches her arms over her head and sighs, feigning nonchalance.

“I just remembered something I need to talk to Calliope about,” you tell them, although it’s more directed at Jane since she’s still in charge of your recovery. You’re not supposed to move around too much after work, but you need to check that computer in the infirmary before you do anything else. Jane frowns slightly, and you keep your expression carefully neutral.

“Oh, well I suppose that’s fine. I’ll come with you then. I’ve been so busy with work, I’ve hardly had any time to see her.” _Shit,_ no you need her to stay here. You glance at Roxy, trying to catch her eye.

“Actually, Janey, I need your help with something,” she says quickly, standing up and taking Jane’s hand, then pulling her towards her bedroom. Roxy goes on to tell her in hushed tones about a “femi-nine” type medical problem she’s been having lately, but doesn’t want to talk about in front of “the boys.” Jane looks mildly confused at the abrupt change in topic, but the ploy seems to work, and you wait until they’re both in Roxy’s room before exiting through the front door.

You make your way down the tunnels, trying not to walk too fast in case someone gets curious about why you’re wandering around. It’s harder to blend in now, with so few people, and when word got around that you had single-handedly enlisted an android to fight English’s men, it got even harder to go anywhere without attracting a few stares. It’s easy to ignore them, but it makes your current situation especially difficult, as you slow your pace to peek around a corner at the hallway beyond, enduring the flashbacks to when you did this with AR at your side.

Now more than ever, you need to know what happened. Seeing the footage only left you with more questions, and as you get closer to the infirmary, your mind touches on every possibility you can come up with. AR looked angry when he spoke to your Bro, but that doesn’t tell you much, and Calliope must have heard at least some of it, but she was ordered to stay silent. The footage was deleted, your shades were wiped, the flash drive was destroyed, and your brother would never have lied to you without a reason.

The infirmary has several entrances, only one of which you’re familiar with. You pass the door that leads into the room with the row of beds, trying to remember the security footage from the hallway outside. There’s a muffled voice behind the second door, but it’s late in the afternoon, and there shouldn’t be more than a few people around, if at all. The door at the end of the tunnel is the one you’re looking for, and you stop to listen before carefully twisting the knob.

You’ve never been inside this room before, apart from when you were unconscious, and the tiled walls give it a strange, sterile feeling. Your feet echo as you let the door fall shut behind you, and you immediately spot the computer you’re looking for. The metal table in the center of the room is empty, and you pause as you walk past it, remembering yourself lying face-up on it, with AR’s black appendages coiled around your body, like you were something that belonged to him. It’s an image you don’t ever want to forget, even if your search uncovers something terrible.

You pull the chair out and sit down at the desk, careful to keep your movements quiet. The computer is in sleep mode, and you wake it up by tapping on the keyboard with one finger, then stare at the idle screen, at a loss for what exactly you were expecting to find. You click around the desktop and rifle through the utility programs, searching for anything out of the ordinary. The list of recently opened documents is blank, since it resets whenever the computer is shut down, and you don’t think it’s used very often in the first place, except to keep records on anyone who gets any kind of treatment.

You find your own file, buried in a folder of patients marked for this year, and skim the contents- lacerations, muscle damage, head injury, etc. It’s not a very thorough list, but your Bro likes everyone to keep records for some reason. You’ve never really understood why. Even the equipment that goes through the maintenance room gets logged.

You’re almost out of ideas when you finally decide to check the hard drive.

The computer’s files are organized by type into folders and subfolders, but you expand all of them into a single window that takes a few minutes to load due to the sheer volume. You click around, unsure of what you’re looking for, before the categories at the top of the screen catch your attention, one of them offering you the option to list them by ‘date modified.’

You execute the command and watch as the list reorganizes itself. When you scroll down to last month, a single file stands out, created just after six AM on the morning English attacked the compound. There’s no file extension at the end of the name, and it’s a random jumble of numbers. Your heart rate picks up again, and you take a deep breath, before moving the mouse across the screen to open it.

It’s a text document.

“Autograph Cranioplasty for the Treatment of Traumatic Cerebral Edema”

It’s a document filled with nothing but paragraphs of text, detailing a step-by-step surgical procedure. From what you can understand of the medical jargon, it’s the very same procedure that was performed to keep you alive, right down to the time frame for replacing the section of your skull they removed. This is what your brother was hiding? What he went to all that effort to keep from you? A text document on how to perform a surgery?

A life-saving surgery…

You trace the edges of the incision scar along your scalp, where your hair still hasn’t grown back. AR carried you here and put this file into the computer, then left the compound. There’s no reason why he would have done that, unless he was trying to keep you from dying, and that doesn’t make any sense.

None of it makes sense anymore.

You pull your knees up and wrap your arms around them, staring at the thick wall of text on the screen, while a miserable feeling settles over you. When you close your eyes, the image returns of AR leaning over your unconscious body and resting a hand on your forehead, and a vague memory surfaces, almost like a forgotten dream, of a warm, tingling sensation against your skin, like when you felt his chest with the palm of your hand. You remember the way his eyes stared down at you appraisingly when you dared to touch him. The color of them is permanently burned into your mind, like the scars he’s left on your body, and you wish you could have at least felt him carrying you, even if he had only taken you away from the compound to die.

You have to bite the inside of your lip to keep yourself from crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/92126945251/notacorpse-you-do-not-have-any-great-affection) for this chapter by the gloriously talented tumblr user [notacorpse](http://notacorpse.tumblr.com/)!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/92485152441/endangered-12) on Tumblr.

_You lied to me._

Roxy glances at you out of the corner of her eye, an unspoken reminder to keep your expression neutral, as Bro addresses your gathered group of early morning shift workers. It’s not something you signed up for, but you don’t exactly get to dictate your schedule these days.

“Our electrician will keep working on restoring power to the north wing, and no, I don’t care that you’ve never wired anything bigger than a floodlight before. You’ve been promoted, and that’s the end of it.”

The woman in question gives a defeated sigh, and your Bro moves on to the next item on his list, while you chew the inside of your lip. Just the sound of his voice right now is enough to make you fantasize about slapping the notebook out of his hand.

_I saw the footage, I know you lied about AR._

“Cleaning detail, good work. I know it’s a lot of effort to disinfect every little spot of blood, but I’m not having an outbreak of some blood-borne disease cut our numbers down any further. You’ll be reassigned to your old jobs afterwards if we can’t find anything better for you. Until then, keep me posted about your progress.” A small group of several individuals nod and murmur affirmatively, and he flips the page in his notebook. “Scavengers, I hate to do this, but we’re still not covering enough ground, and our supplies of ammunition and medicine are pathetically low. I’m splitting you into groups of one, meaning I expect everyone to adhere, _strictly,_ to survival guidelines, and to check in at the appropriate times. If you fail to do so, you’ll be presumed dead, and your team will rendezvous and leave without you. Is that clear?” Another, slightly larger group of people (including Calliope) respond this time, and you grit your teeth as Roxy mutters your name. Apparently your poker face isn’t as good as it used to be.

_What did he say to you before he left? Why did he keep me alive? I deserve to know why, Bro, I saved your fucking life for this._

“We’re running low on methods to test the tanks and pipes for bacteria, and I sure as hell don’t want to start playing the odds with our drinking water. I know live animals are hard to come by, but we need more gelatin for the bacterial growth plates. I’m reassigning one member of each checkpoint team to hunting, depending on how good you are with a firearm. Once again, we’re low on ammunition, so take it easy out there.” He gestures at several people, and you watch as Jake is pulled away from your small crowd to stand with them, looking pleasantly surprised. “Basic survival rules still apply. After you take a shot, get the fuck out of there before the noise attracts something worse. Infirmary,” he gestures to the group next to you, and Jane looks up attentitively. “I don’t need to tell you what kind of condition our supplies are in. Keep working with the physical rehab patients and whatever else comes up. I want another inventory report handed to me at the end of the day, I don’t care who fills it out.”

_You had no right to hide the truth from me. All this time, I’ve trusted you._

“Maintenance,” he finally says, turning to where you and Roxy are standing in front of your other group member. You’re still reduced to only three, since the fourth is out sick again. Bro turns the page in his notebook, and you can’t tell whether he’s meeting your accusing stare or not. “That broken generator from yesterday is working now, but it’s only putting out about half of what it should be. I’m assigning two of you this time to look into it. We need that thing fixed properly. One of you,” he gestures at you, and your teeth grit together, “will take care of emergency repairs _only._ Other than that, you’ll stay put in the maintenance lab.” His voice drops slightly at the end, the words meant for you alone. The infirmary told you multiple times not to exert yourself, but he’s still reiterating it, as though he expects you to run laps around the compound if he doesn’t tell you otherwise. Roxy nudges you again.

He dismisses your gathered group after a few more sets of instructions, and you leave the command center with the rest of them through the still-absent door, trailing miserably behind Roxy as she chats briefly with the other maintenance worker. They’re heading to the lab for tools before venturing to the ever-malfunctioning generator (you have no idea why Bro hasn’t just scrapped the damn thing yet, you could probably build a better one from scratch if you had the parts), and you follow them down the corridors as Roxy laughs at something and the old man chuckles, but you aren’t paying any attention to their conversation.

You couldn’t sleep last night. The best you could do was several half-hour periods of vague, dreamlike episodes, but you’d hardly call it sleep. As a result, you’re tired and more irritable than usual. Every part of you is itching to confront Bro, but you’d probably get Roxy in trouble if you did, and you still owe her for helping you out. You aren’t sure of your brother’s motives, but more than anything else, you just want to know what was said between him and AR. The android’s actions are the most confusing part of this equation.

Roxy turns the corner and walks with you through the maintenance lab’s entrance. She moves around the room, gathering what she needs into a satchel, and you morosely sit down at the console where you’ve spent the better part of the last week. She retrieves something from the table next to you, and flashes you a brief, apologetic smile that you force yourself to return.

“See you when we get back,” she whispers, squeezing your arm before joining the other worker at the entrance of the lab. They leave together, talking quietly about nothing in particular. You heave a sigh and boot up the computer, before spending the next ten minutes staring vacantly at the idle screen and wondering how you’re going to get through the day with hardly enough energy to even sit up straight.

Sulking, you walk to one of the workbenches and retrieve the radio from yesterday, still half-assembled from your attempt to fix it. You were planning on having Roxy look at it, even though her speciality is computer software, but a second pair of eyes would have been helpful regardless. You carry the device to the desk next to the computer, figuring that maybe it’ll miraculously work on its own after you finish reassembling it, because you’ve already tried everything else, before a sudden notification on the computer’s screen catches your eye.

You open the message after setting the radio aside and skim the contents. It’s a malfunctioning generator, but it’s not the same one Roxy left to fix. You’re not happy about the fact that yet more equipment is breaking down, but this qualifies as an emergency job, and a change of scenery would be nice at this point. The busted radio can wait.

The remaining tools Roxy left behind are somewhat scarce, but you find almost everything you might need, including a voltmeter and small can of oil worth its weight in whatever valuable ore this society used to hold dear. You gather everything into a bag and sling it over your shoulder, leaving a notice on the intake desk that you’re away on a repair job, before heading into the tunnels. The generator is located in one of the more distant parts of the compound, so you’ll have plenty of time to think while you walk.

Last night, you finally remembered a little more of what happened before you blacked out. Something had touched your face and said your name after English hit you, but you hadn’t known it was AR. Everything after that is still a complete blank, until you woke up in an infirmary cot with Bro sitting next to you. His behavior was bizarre at the time, but now he’s just been distant, like he’s angry about something. AR might have gone along with your plan in the interest of killing you at the end, but you did it to save everyone’s lives, and if it weren’t for you, things would have turned out very differently. His strange behavior seems ungrateful, at the very least. You wish you could just confront him about it, but he’s been avoiding idle conversation lately, and he looks tired all the time, even through the dark glass of his aviators. You’ve all had it rough since the incident, and everyone’s been working overtime to restore some semblance of normalcy to the compound, especially him.

Regardless of your Bro’s obscure intentions, you still have to wonder about AR. After staying up the entire night and replaying the footage in your head, you’ve come to acknowledge that it might have had something to do with how you saved him from English, but that would mean applying a very human motivation to his actions, which wouldn’t make sense. From what you know about him, he doesn’t operate on mercy or pity, although it almost seemed like it back when he cornered you in the subway. At the time, you’d attributed his desire to kill you without a struggle to his own particular brand of psychological sadism, but you’re starting to wonder if he really had been doing it out of appreciation for your conversations. The possibility seems remote, but you haven’t completely ruled it out. He might have even helped you after English hit you in return for saving him, but you have to keep reminding yourself not to think about him in human terms.

It doesn’t help that you’ve been thinking about him too much in the first place.

Every image of him holding you or wrapping his mechanical limbs around your body are held in your mind, like precious, irreplaceable jewels. You’d give anything to have been awake for it. He hasn’t touched you with his hands since he took the flash drive from you, as you laid in the dirt with him kneeling over you, pressing you into the ground. You have to stop thinking about it before the heat pools in your gut like it always does now.

The corridor ends in a series of twists and turns. Its narrow tunnels don’t see much traffic due to the remote location, and you’re on the east side of the compound now, close to the old processing plant Jake mentioned before you shot down his idea of traveling a hundred miles on foot in late autumn. The generator is still running, like the notification mentioned, but it’s not putting out any electricity, and it’s probably the circuit breaker or a blown fuse. You kneel in front of it and set your bag down, letting out a sigh before digging around for a screwdriver.

It’s an old machine, similar to the one that keeps breaking down on the other side of the compound. You’re working far too early in the morning with far too little sleep to deal with this, and you silently curse the generator and it’s stupid, faulty parts. The panel comes off easily after you unplug the noisy behemoth of a machine, and you pick around the wires, trying to remember the layout from the tattered manuals you were forced to review recently.

Something clicks loudly behind you.

“Hello, Strider.” Your surname is practically spat out, and you’d recognize that stilted, excessively hostile voice anywhere.

Carefully, you put down the tool as something nudges against the back of your head. You have an idea of what it is, and you’re hoping with everything you have that you’re wrong.

“Stand the fuck up,” Caliborn snarls, and you obey slowly. When you try to turn around, he shoves at your shoulder, keeping your back to him. “I didn’t tell you to turn around,” he growls, before adding, “fucker.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it, along with your own rising, helpless panic.

“Calib-” you start nervously, before the thing shoves at the back of your head, and a familiar twinge of pain arcs across your skull.

“Shut the fuck up. And start walking.” He shoves at your shoulder again, pushing you to face the tunnel leading away from the direction you came and shoving at you again when you don’t move. You almost stumble before wordlessly obeying, floundering for what to do as your feet mindlessly carry you away from safety. Whatever’s brushing against the back of your head, knowing him, it’s probably filled with bullets. You want to grab it, turn around and rip it out of his hands, but your reflexes haven’t been the same since the injury that landed you in the infirmary for two weeks. You wouldn’t have hesitated a month ago, but now you aren’t sure how fast you can still move, and he’d probably shoot you on the spot for trying. Your mind fleetingly conjures the moment in the subway, with AR’s claws at your neck.

“You think you’re so smart,” Caliborn mutters, shoving you again for good measure. “You think I won’t blow your fucking brains out. I’ll splatter them all over the walls, while you watch.”

‘Idiot,’ you think, before he shoves you yet again, and you turn over your shoulder to glare at him after stumbling forward and almost falling. The long barrel of a black rifle is indeed pointed directly at your head. Caliborn sneers at you.

“Keep walking, Strider.” He forcibly pushes at the side of your head with the gun, until you turn around and continue further down the tunnel, the floor beginning to slope upwards. “Bet you wish your precious brother was here. With his stupid sunglasses.”

He’s taking you to one of the compound’s exits. Your feet slow with the realization, until he kicks at one of your legs painfully. “Keep walking,” he growls again, “or you’re dying here.”

_As opposed to dying out there?_

But there’s nothing you can do without getting yourself shot, except let your feet carry you closer to the hatch door at the end of the corridor. It’s a small one, perched at the top of a long flight of steps. When you reach it, he nudges the back of your head with the barrel again.

“Open it.”

‘Fuck no,’ you think vehemently, and a sudden explosion of sound next to your ear makes you jump like a startled cat. When it’s over, you’re practically deaf on one side, and there’s a bullet hole in the concrete next to the door.

“I said, open it.”

You reach out with trembling hands and turn the circular latch. When you step back to let the door swing open, the early morning cold air hits your skin like an invisible wall. Caliborn roughly pushes your shoulder, forcing you to step through it and onto the metal scaffolding outside.

You’ve never left the compound through this route before. The area stretching out in front of you is a small, barren lot of dirt, surrounded by the cracked structures of low buildings, their walls half collapsed. The hatch door opens onto a scaffolding about a dozen feet high, leading to a set of metal stairs that descend to the empty lot. The sun still hasn’t come up yet, and the sky is dark. Caliborn shoves you again, while you resist the urge to hit him back.

“Go on, Strider,” he says, with a satisfaction that makes your stomach sour. “Get down there and stand still. And don’t even think about running.”

“Bro will have your head for this,” you tell him through gritted teeth. He grins at you unpleasantly, and you get a brief, vivid flashback of English doing the same. He’s probably going to shoot you the moment you get to the bottom of the steps. You’re hoping that the noise from before will attract someone, but a single shot like that could easily be mistaken for something else, with all the machines breaking down lately. Even if it does, it’ll probably be too late, unless you can stall him.

Before you can even open your mouth to try, he pulls the trigger again, and the bullet sparks close to your feet.

He mutters a curse with a slight frown. It looks like he was actually trying to hit you that time.

Slowly, you turn around, hoping that he won’t try it again if you cooperate. You take the steps one at a time, drawing it out as much as possible, but your shoes eventually crunch against the dirt and rocks as you reach the bottom. When you turn around, Caliborn is still pointing the gun at you, but there’s something else in his other hand that you hadn’t noticed. The hatch door behind him is hanging open, and he sits down on the bottom of the frame. His grin spreads wider as you stand in the middle of the empty lot, confused.

“Listen to me, Strider,” he says, resting the rifle on his knee, the barrel still pointed at you. “You’re going to die today.”

“Caliborn…” you mutter his name, at a loss for what to say, or how to get through to him. You’re experiencing a distressing amount of deja-vu.

“But first I’m gonna do to you, what you did to my dad.” He lifts his arm, the one not holding the rifle, with what looks like a tiny, red pistol in his hand, pointed straight up at the sky. “And you won’t move from that spot, until I move first.”

The sudden sound makes you flinch as he pulls the trigger, but it’s different from a normal gunshot like you’d expected. Looking up at the darkened sky, you watch in growing fear, as a bright ball of light slowly falls through the air like a firework, illuminating the empty lot and abandoned buildings. You stare at the light, transfixed in disbelief, until it gradually fades. Your safety training suddenly comes to mind, conjuring the brief lecture you were given about flare guns.

‘Flare guns have a visibility distance of two to twelve miles, depending on the time of day they’re used, and how dark the sky is at the time,’ Jake’s grandmother had told you in her soft, gravelly voice, while you and your friends listened to her lecture. ‘Which is why they should never be used, especially not at night. You’ll only be attracting something terrible.’

Every muscle in your body screams at you to run, but Caliborn just smiles at your expression of shock, and points the rifle at you.

“Stay put, Strider,” he taunts. “We wouldn’t want to miss our guest.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” you hiss, breathing heavily for a moment as the distant sound of shifting rubble comes to your ears. If only you had repaired your shades in time, you might be able to contact someone for help, but they’re still useless, sitting folded in your pocket. Caliborn just grins as he waits patiently, and the sound comes again, closer this time.

“Maybe,” he murmurs with a laugh, almost too soft for you to hear. “I’m crazy, and you’re dead. That sounds fine to me.”

Something creaks behind you, and you turn to face it, seeing nothing but shadow between the leaning walls of the dilapidated buildings. There’s a hint of movement there, and you turn again to glance at Caliborn.

You aren’t sure what AR will do when he finds you again.

A long, black appendage snakes out of the darkness, gripping the edge of one wall with its pointed claws. Another follows it, and a third, and fourth, before a looming shape appears in the center.

Your blood runs cold, as the darkened walls slowly light up with a deep, blue glow.

_Oh god…_

Whether Caliborn is still pointing his gun at you or not, you don’t wait to find out, scrambling to the side as a large figure outlined in blue circuits appears from the shadows. You have to duck under a sweeping metal limb that lashes out suddenly, threatening to knock you off of your feet, and you get a brief glimpse of the emerging figure as you run towards the crumbling buildings to your left- a hulking android with wide metal limbs, and a single horn on one side of its head. The other seems to have broken off at the middle.

You don’t have the presence of mind to wish it had been AR, as you pump your legs as fast as they’ll go, but your head already feels like it’s swimming. You can hear it behind you- a familiar pounding that makes the ground under your feet shake, and when you duck behind the first wall, you hear a sudden crash from the other side. The wall leans forward and almost crushes you as the android pushes it over, with two of its metal claws reaching for you from around either side, digging into the dirt as they blindly grasp at your body and snapping open and closed with a terrifying clang. You avoid them and duck around the next wall, then the next, taking advantage of the smallest openings you can find between the crumbling buildings. When you’ve found one with an intact door hanging crookedly on its hinges, you slide beneath it and press yourself against the wall next to the door, then grit your teeth as a vicious wrench of dizziness grips you.

Your chest feels like it’s burning, but you force yourself to breathe silently, as more walls crash to the ground nearby. Unlike AR, this android seems to prefer a bulldozer approach to hunting, and you’re forced to keep moving as the sounds get closer, crawling past an old wooden desk and a row of fallen file cabinets, before finding another room with a collapsed wall to escape through. You can see the processing plant’s towers a short distance away, but you need to find another entrance to the compound if you’re going to survive this.

You’ll kill Caliborn yourself if you ever get your hands on him again. He might try to run before anyone figures out what he did, but you get the feeling he’s got some kind of alibi planned out. He probably sabotaged the generator himself. You’re on the east side of the compound, so there should be another entrance to the south, but it’s closed off and reinforced. You can’t go back in the way you left, which leaves the checkpoints as your only hope, but there aren’t any subway entrances nearby.

The wall next to you suddenly collapses as the android’s hulking figure emerges, its blue eyes fixed on you almost mindlessly. You turn to run back the way you came, and one of the claws lashes out at you, catching your shirt and tearing the fabric almost completely off. Your head spins as you stumble your way towards the tilted door, at a frantic loss for where to go next. You can feel your body already slowing down with exertion, and you’re more or less trapped, just as Caliborn must have gleefully planned.

You head back towards the compound again with no real goal in mind, running and gasping for air as the rhythmic pounding follows you. The empty lot appears, and you circle around it, passing beneath the metal scaffolding with the now closed hatch door, and making your way along the concrete wall. You duck under gigantic pipes and detour around a large tank when it looms into view, but the blue light follows you as the android gives chase. He’s slower than AR, but not by much. You’re barely keeping enough distance from him to avoid his reaching appendages, and as you come upon another open stretch of space, something yanks your foot out from under you, and you hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of your chest and slamming your chin against the dirt, making your teeth throb painfully. You roll onto your back and reflexively reach out to dig your fingers into the ground as the android pulls you close, having caught you by the metal claw wrapped like a vice around your ankle.

You think you might have screamed at some point. Three other appendages rise into the air over you, spreading their pointed tips, while memories of English’s men flash through your mind, their stomachs ripped open and their insides strewn about on the floor. The android’s face is expressionless with intent, and you meet its eyes in a silent panic, waiting helplessly for the claws to descend as a growing, rhythmic pounding echoes from the buildings nearby, before there’s a sudden crash of deafening sound and motion above you.

The steel grip releases your ankle, and you close your eyes against the shower of dirt that peppers you, making you cough when you accidentally inhale it. Something hits the ground next to you on one side, followed by a similar impact on the other, and after that it’s suddenly, strangely silent.

You open your eyes, squinting against a mixture of purple light in the air as the dust settles. You can faintly make out the pattern of blue lines a short distance away as the android lifts itself up on its appendages, and a second, smaller figure, hovering over you with its claws buried into the ground on either side of your body. You’ve never been more relieved in your life to see glowing red circuits.

“AR,” you gasp in disbelief, but he’s ignoring you. He’s staring at the larger blue andorid, his posture rigid, while the other android stares back. You ears pick up on a strange, faint electronic sound, almost like an overloaded hard drive. It seems to be coming from the both of them in turns, and you realize a moment later, with a small sense of wonder, that they must be talking to each other.

Your fascination with the sound is brief, as the blue android lifts itself higher on its appendages, its expression vaguely angered. AR’s claws reposition themselves restlessly in the dirt, his entire body tense in a way you’ve never seen before, while the bizarre sound continues to emanate from them. Suddenly, the other android’s blue eyes narrow.

“You have malfunctioned!” he booms in his electronic voice, and AR staggers backwards over you, his expression turning quickly to fear, before the hulking android lunges at him.

A claw slams into the ground next to your head, and you barely manage to roll out of the way before another digs into the dirt where your stomach was a moment ago. They grapple at each other with a deafening sound of clashing metal, as the blue android seizes AR’s neck with one claw and repeatedly slams the others into the smaller android’s chest, their pointed tips screeching against the plating. AR lashes out at him with all four appendages, striking at him and locking claws with two of his limbs as they strain against each other. The blue android shouts something like the word ‘submit!’ before one of AR’s claws abruptly hits him in the face, and he staggers backwards before lunging again.

You seem to have been forgotten for the moment, as the two tear and strike at each other. One of the crumbling buildings is a short distance away, and for a brief moment you consider fleeing and saving yourself, but the other android gets a grip on AR’s leg and yanks him to the ground on his back, before slamming a claw into his chest and digging the points into the black metal as AR’s circuits flicker. You get a flash of the look in his red eyes- panic, like nothing you’ve ever seen before, not even with the EMP gun in the subway tunnel. The blue android seems intent on tearing open his metal plating, and AR thrashes beneath him, struggling to throw him off and slamming his own appendages into him wherever he can reach. You’re helpless on the sidelines, watching as AR finally manages to pull him down to the ground, and their limbs strike at each other like serpents in the dust, tangling together and flashing their pointed tips. A horrible sound of screeching metal abruptly cuts through the air, and one set of clawed appendages suddenly begins to thrash wildly, uncoordinated, before weakly coiling and sliding across the ground, then gradually stilling. The blue light fades away with it, leaving AR’s red glow alone in the settling dust.

The larger android lies at his feet, its eyes dark and its chest roughly torn open in the center. Something like a green rock is clutched in one of AR’s claws, and he flings it away to thump and roll against the ground. You let out a shaky sigh of relief, pulling yourself to your feet, but you freeze when AR suddenly staggers to one side, clutching at his shoulder. He lets out a strange, almost pained sound, and you can see now that one of his metal appendages is dragging on the ground behind him, the clawed tip twitching erratically. When he turns away, you see a deep gash in the metal limb, close to where it emerges from his back.

He’s hurt.

“AR,” you whisper, then yell it, trying to get his attention, but he’s already turned away. You steady yourself and half-run after him, ignoring the dead android sprawled in the dirt. He turns when you get close, and you slow your approach at the look of fury on his face.

“Get away from me,” he hisses dangerously. You reach out your hands, like trying to placate a wild animal, but before you can speak, one of his intact limbs whips around and hits you, effortlessly brushing you aside. You fall to the ground and stagger back up, ignoring the ache in your body where you landed.

“AR, wait,” you beg, trying to catch your breath. He clutches his shoulder and glares murder at you, flinching in pain when a spark flashes across the tear in his limb. When you try to approach him again, two more of the appendages lash out, and you brace yourself as they hit your chest-

-only to push you backwards. You struggle to keep your balance as your shoes slide across the ground, fearful of the sharp points against your chest, but he simply pushes you with the claws spread wide, and when you try to resist, he stubbornly holds you away from him. He latches onto your arm when you try to move aside, but only shoves you backwards with it, using no more force than Caliborn did. You meet his eyes, enraged and pained, but you aren’t yielding, not even if he hurts you for it.

“AR, please.” You’re not sure what you’re asking for, but a thought suddenly occurs to you. “You’re hurt. Let me see it.”

“Why,” he snarls, but the claws holding you back don’t close into your flesh like you know they could, like you’ve seen, despite the rage in his metallic voice.

“Because maybe I can help.”

He stares at you when you say it, before shoving you backwards again, this time with more force, and you almost stumble to the ground.

“You have damned me,” he growls, infuriated. “I have been marked for disassembly because you would not stay within the safety of your settlement!” His voice rises, as the appendage lifts you by your arm into the air and flings you away from him. Your back hits the ground, but it was a gentle toss compared to what you’ve seen him do. For whatever reason, despite the situation, he isn’t really trying to hurt you, and it gives you the courage to stand up and approach him again, ignoring the dirt covering your torn clothes.

“It wasn’t my fault” you tell him, as his three functioning appendages twist angrily in the air. He looks like he’s ready to actually hurt you this time, so you keep your voice low. “I was forced out at gunpoint, I had no choice.” You take a step forward, then another. The hovering claws lift higher into the air. “I wouldn’t have done this to you on purpose. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He takes a step back, and you take another step forward, keeping your hands lifted placatingly in front of you. When one of the claws pushes against your chest again, you pry it away with considerable effort, and somehow, he lets you. Another latches onto your shoulder, then another, just below your neck. You wrench them aside with your fingers wrapped around the metal tips. When you get close to him, AR takes another step back for every two you take forward, his red eyes blazing with anger and conflict, until you’re within arm’s reach. When you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, you can’t tell whether he stiffens from it or not, because his skin is nothing but solid plates of metal. The claws seem to hover at your back, unsure of whether to dig their points into your flesh or not, to rip out your lungs the way he must want to, but you feel like you’re dying all over again. He’s so warm against you, it’s like pressing yourself to a running motor, and his internal parts gently vibrate with whatever mechanisms are keeping him alive. You clutch at his back, ignoring the way you’re already too warm from holding him like this, but his circuits tingle pleasantly against your skin. It’s gentle in a way he usually isn’t, and you marvel at the fact that he hasn’t torn you open for this.

“I missed you.” The words come out naturally in a whisper, the way they did once in a dream. You were terrified for him a moment ago, thinking that he’d be torn apart or killed, and that fear lingers as you feel yourself shake at the memory. He’s silent in reply, and when you pull away enough to look at him, his eyes are predictably, indignantly confused, but he still isn’t hurting you. Your hands slide down his shoulders to rest on his scratched chest, and some of the circuits are already dark where the blue android’s claws cut into the metal. “Please let me help you.”

His three remaining appendages are hovering around you indecisively, and you take it as a good sign, gently pulling at his shoulder and coaxing him to turn. He resists for a moment, but you lean over and manage to pull his shoulder down enough to see the deep gash in his nonfunctional limb, filled with more tiny wires than you’ve ever seen before in your life. He flinches again with a quiet, pained sound as it sparks, while the claw twitches on the ground like a severed limb. You’ve repaired exposed wires before, but you aren’t sure if the same rules apply here. He’s not a generator or a radio transceiver, and you have no idea what makes him function like a sentient creature rather than a simple robot, but you’re willing to do your best, if only he’ll let you.

“Come with me,” you tell him, taking his metal arm in your hand. He stares at you wordlessly, before his eyes narrow and he takes a step back.

“Why,” he asks again, his voice bitter.

“I might be able to help you, but I need my tools. Please, just trust me.” You try to put enough sincerity into your words to convince him. He weighs significantly more than you do, and he’s not going anywhere unwillingly. “You saved my life twice, let me return the favor.”

He stares at you suspiciously, but doesn’t strike out at you, the way he would have before.

“Your altruism is pathological,” he mutters angrily, but when you pull on his arm again, he gives in and silently starts to follow you, and your heart jumps with relief, along with a tiny thrill at seeing him give in to your persuasion. A sound like shifting gravel reaches your ears as the damaged limb drags across the ground, and you step away for a moment as he turns, confused, to watch you pick it up by its metal neck. The appendage is unexpectedly heavy, given the way he always wields them around in the air, but you’re averse to the idea of letting him drag it all the way to the compound. He stares at you strangely as you gather the metal coils your arms, carefully avoiding the twitching claw, and carrying it with you as you walk beside him. His black skin is scuffed all over, covered in scratches and dents inflicted by the fight, and you’re relieved beyond words that he came out of it alive. Either AR’s claws are stronger, or the blue android’s plating was weaker. Whatever it was he tore out, that green rock must have been some sort of vital part, with the way he panicked when the other android tried to do the same to him, pinning him and repeatedly digging his claws into AR's chest.

“Are you okay? I mean, besides that wound,” you ask, and he glances at you wordlessly with a derisive stare, still clutching miserably at his shoulder, before turning away. The silence stretches on, broken only by your footsteps on the ground as you follow around the compound’s perimeter, leading him between a row of large tanks and discarded industrial equipment. It becomes clear after a while that he isn’t interested in responding to your question, and your mind wanders a little. You feel slightly off-balance and sore, with a headache slowly coming on, but otherwise unscathed.

AR seems to have taken the worst of it. The circuits on his chest are an uneven patchwork of red lines where they used to form a symmetrical pattern, and you could even feel the marks in the plating when you ran your hands over them. The memory of what you just did, embracing him the way you’ve dreamt about for weeks on end, feels almost unreal, like it was nothing but another dream. The fact that he actually let you do it is even more remarkable. You’d think he was ignoring you now, except for the way his eyes flick over to you every few minutes, like he’s keeping track of you while he walks. You’d give anything to know what he’s thinking right now, why he saved your life and left the compound, and then defended you from one of his own- you have so many questions, you don’t even know where to start, but it can wait. For now, you need to help him. It’s the least you can do, and you can’t bring yourself to care what happens next, now that he’s with you again.

The sky has already lightened into hues of murky blue since Caliborn forced you out of the compound, and in another few minutes, the sun will begin to rise in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [TUMBLR USER JABOODY ANIMATED PART OF THIS CHAPTER.](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/120394165286/jaboody-okay-so-i-finally-got-this-to-where-i) \o/ IT'S AMAZING.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/92938103726/endangered-13) on Tumblr.

You have a general idea of where you ended up after the blue android chased you around the compound’s perimeter. There should be another hatch door nearby, although protocol dictates that it remain sealed at all times, and you don’t want to risk taking AR into the compound through a checkpoint where an EMP gun might be in use. Honestly, you have no idea what you’re going to do with him, apart from getting him to the maintenance lab so you can attempt to do something about the tear in his metal limb and maybe fix the damaged circuits on his chest, although you don’t know if they even have a practical purpose. You’re still reeling from everything that’s happened in the last hour. As the two of you slowly progress along the compound’s concrete outer wall, the headache you can feel coming on isn’t making things any easier, although it’s nothing compared to what AR must be going through right now. ‘Marked for disassembly,’ he’d said. You aren’t sure what that means exactly, but if the fight that followed his encounter with the other android is anything to go by, it’s probably some kind of execution order.

All because he protected you.

Maybe. It’s hard to tell what he was really trying to accomplish, since his words and actions have been contradicting so much lately. You shouldn’t ask, but you can’t help it.

“What were you saying to the blue android?” you ask, throwing caution to the wind. AR’s metal limb is heavy in your arms as you try to shift it into a more comfortable position, mindful of the twitching claw. “I mean, assuming you were talking, right before he attacked you.”

“I was not ‘talking,’” he says with distaste after a particularly long, reluctant pause. “I was exchanging information with that unit.” He flinches as another spark in his damages limb arcs across the exposed wires. You wince sympathetically at the sound he makes, before tentatively speaking again.

“What kind of information?”

“I was informing him that you were mine. He was incapable of understanding that concept, and accused me of operating outside of my parameters.”

“Yours?” you echo the word quietly, less of a question and more a statement of quiet disbelief.

“Yes.” AR turns to pin you with a stare, and something about the cold authority of it makes your blood run hot. You can feel your face turning pink, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “Those were the terms of our agreement. In exchange for having killed the humans threatening your settlement, you are willingly mine to do with as I please. I informed your brother of this as well.”

You almost succumb to a sudden wave of horror, before remembering the footage of them talking to each other, along with Bro’s strange behavior when you woke up in the infirmary. The fact that AR had already told him about your deal sort of explains why he acted that way, although you still aren’t sure why he went to such lengths to hide everything afterwards. Your conversation falls into a tense silence, as you carefully contemplate your next question. A large industrial pipe, half-buried in the dirt, forces the two of you into a short detour around it. The sky is already a faint, cloudless blue, and you can see the sunlight just starting to reach the tops of the city’s ruined buildings in the distance.

“Why did you save me?” you ask him, unable to voice the question any louder. His eyes watch you unreadably, as you anticipate the answer to a question that’s been eating you alive for a month. “I saw the security footage, and the file in the infirmary’s computer. I thought you wanted to…” you trail off, before swallowing hard against your anxiety and trying again, “…to kill me, when it was done, but you left. I didn’t know why, and my Bro wouldn’t say anything. He tried to hide it from me, and I thought…” _that something terrible had happened to you._

AR stares at you silently, still clutching his shoulder and keeping pace with you at his side. You’re starting to recognize your surroundings as you get closer to the south end of the compound, and it shouldn’t be too much further to the hatch door. You’ll find some way to contact Roxy when you get there, but for now, you can’t wait any longer to ask these questions. AR seems to contemplate his answer.

“Originally, my plan was to take you with me into the city at the conclusion of my task.” He says, and one of his functioning appendages lifts into the air, snaking around behind you and hovering close to your neck. You reflexively lift your hand and rest your fingers on the open claws. “I was going to peel away your skin and pick your muscles apart individually, before stripping your bones and cracking the joints in half. I would have kept you alive until the very end, before pulling out your organs and opening your skull to remove your brain tissue. My ability to delay human death has greatly improved over years of experimentation. Given your current physical condition, you would have survived several hours at least, depending on your rate of blood loss, however the careful cauterization of major vessels has thus far prevented death in this manner for the last several hundred humans I have captured.”

You listen to his words, almost detached from what they really mean. He makes it easy with his mechanical monotone, going through the information like it’s a vocabulary list. Part of you wants to recoil in horror, but none of it is out of character for him, to the point where you’re more surprised by your own acceptance of it than you are by what he’s saying.

“However, your behavior in response to the electromagnetic weapon was…” he trails off for a moment as the claw at your neck retracts, staring ahead thoughtfully, “perplexing.”

“I didn’t want you to die,” you finally admit. The chain link fence coming up on your left marks the beginning of the compound’s south side. He winces again as his injury sparks, although it seems to be happening less frequently now.

“You acted directly against your own survival,” he states accusingly. “My death would have released you from the consequences of our arrangement, and your effort to prevent this from occurring was pointless and suicidal.”

You suppress the rising urge to defend yourself. There’s nothing else you can say that you haven’t already said, apart from admitting to harboring some very irrational feelings for him, but even at the time, you hadn’t consciously come to terms with your own motivations yet. It felt like more of a reflex than anything else. AR’s eyes begin to narrow as he speaks, his voice low.

“I found myself more confounded by your actions than I had been when I first encountered you. My initial hypothesis was that your behavior was a result of insanity, perhaps due to some fault in your neural patterns, or the presence of a neoplastic tumor disrupting the structure of your brain. However, regardless of the underlying cause, I would be unable to resolve my curiosity if you were to die from the severe injury you sustained. This outcome was unacceptable.”

Your heart sinks as he speaks, even as you internally berate yourself for it. Of course he didn’t save you out of affection or appreciation, and you were stupid for thinking otherwise. You should have known better, especially after everything you’ve been through, with him physically trying to kill you not once, but multiple times. You almost don’t hear the rest of his words, as you quietly sulk.

“I informed your brother of our arrangement, and that your death was imminent without prompt medical attention. After transferring you to a location with suitable equipment, I ordered him to keep you alive, and when he claimed that he did not understand how to prevent the lethal symptoms of your injury, I provided him with the information to do so, before returning to the city in order to avoid the threat of your settlement’s electromagnetic weaponry. While this had little to do with understanding your actions, it allowed for the chance that I would have that opportunity again in the future, an outcome that would have been impossible otherwise.

“So, you were just curious,” you say softly, listening to the comforting rhythm of your own feet on the ground. The disappointment is evident in your voice, but it’s unlikely that he cares.

“Yes,” he affirms, ending the single word with a quiet, pained sound. The claw dangling from your arms gives a weak twitch, clanging its tips together, and the two of you lapse into another uncomfortable silence, as you try not to let your mood sink any lower. You still need to figure out how to get in touch with Roxy, and you might have an idea, but you’ll need AR’s help. It’s a good thing you brought your shades with you out of habit, and it’s a miracle they didn’t break when you fell and hit the ground. You checked the eyewear for cracks earlier, and the stems are a little bent to one side, but it’s nothing you can’t fix later. The memory of this morning prompts you with another question that you aren’t sure you want the answer to.

“Is that why you saved me from the blue android?” you ask, holding your breath when AR’s expression suddenly darkens. A month ago he probably would have struck you with one of his appendages, given the way he’s glaring at you now.

“I would not have intervened with that sagittarius unit, had I known that he would report me to H.I.C. as defective.”

You blink under AR’s glare, slightly unsure of what you just heard.

“He reported you? To who?” you ask, as AR turns away.

“I have been marked for disassembly and deletion, as a result of my failure to follow protocol,” he answers vaguely, as his expression turns pensive. “Perhaps I _have_ malfunctioned. The fact alone that I have resisted another’s attempt to carry out the order and have not obeyed the repeated commands to return for decommission is evidence enough.”

You aren’t sure what to make of his sudden, subdued tone. From the sound of it, he really is in trouble for protecting you. It seems bizarre that he’s been ignoring whatever set of rules he was supposed to follow, even though he’s genuinely been trying to end your life for most of the time that you’ve known him.

“What _is_ your protocol?” you ask curiously, taking note of the tall, narrow tank appearing around the next corner of the fence. The south hatch door should be just past it.

“My protocol was to continuously seek out living humans in the city by any means at my disposal, followed by the immediate application of lethal physical force.” He speaks informatively, like reciting a printed decree, apart from his use of the past tense. When you first met AR, he spoke to you and examined the flash drive you were carrying, while the blue android simply tried to tear you apart on sight. Apparently, he’s also been experimenting with the people he catches, and while it sounds like he’s been torturing them in the most gruesome ways possible, if he’s supposed to just catch and kill them, then he really hasn’t been doing what he was supposed to. In that case, making a deal to help you in return for killing you later would have definitely been against the rules.

AR comes to a stop when you reach the closed door next to the tank, regarding it with something like vague skepticism. You know he couldn’t break through it even if he had all four limbs at his disposal, because the compound’s exterior doors are reinforced to prevent that exact thing from happening.

“We need to contact Roxy,” you tell him, dropping the subject of what the both of you have done for each other and why. There should be time for it later, if you can get him to the maintenance lab without incident. “Are you still in the base’s network?”

“No, I am not,” he replies simply, clutching at his shoulder again. He seems preoccupied by the injury, even though the claw on his damaged limb isn’t twitching anymore. You carefully set the bundle of metal coils on the ground at your feet, before retrieving the pointed shades from your pocket and holding them out to him.

“Do you think you can get my shades to work again, even if they’ve been wiped? The wireless chip should still be in there.”

He stares at the eyewear for a long, displeased moment, probably remembering the last time he used them, and you mentally remind yourself to ask later about whether or not he had anything to do with your operating system being deleted. He takes them from you and reaches to the back of his neck, plugging in his thin, black wire before returning them. You pry the bent stems apart and rest them over your ears, ignoring the discomfort as they pinch the sides of your head.

The blank screen flickers, and a window appears a moment later, filling with scrambled letters and numbers, just like the first time you did this. A simplified chat box opens on top of it, with your list of contacts on the side, and Roxy’s name highlights on its own as a blinking cursor appears at the bottom, waiting for your input. AR stands by silently as you mentally type out a message.

  


\-- timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] \--

TT: Roxy, are you there?  
TT: This is urgent.  
TG: yeah im here whats up  
TT: I promise I will explain this later, but I need you to let me into the compound through the south hatch door.  
TT: It’s the one above ground, with the big tank next to it. I think the tunnel is just past storage.  
TG: wait ur outside??  
TT: Yeah.  
TG: why??????  
TT: Because Caliborn forced me out at gunpoint and left me out here to die, until AR saved me from another android, but now he’s hurt, and we need to get to the maintenance lab.  
TT: Roxy?  
TG: are you serious  
TT: Yes.  
TT: I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life.  
TG: wait the android is hurt??  
TG: how does that even work? is he like bleeding oil or something?  
TT: No, but there’s a tear in his plating, and some of his wires are sticking out.  
TG: does that really hurt him?  
TT: Yes, the damaged area is extremely painful. It is analogous to multiple exposed nerves.  
TT: You will comply with Dirk’s request immediately and open the door.  
TG: woah  
TG: ok hold on im omw  
TT: Sorry, Rox. And thanks.

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] \--

  


You hand the shades back to AR. He takes them from you, but doesn’t remove the wire, holding the eyewear in his hand and looking down at it strangely.

“Why was your computing device deleted?” he asks.

“It was my Bro, I think,” you tell him, leaning against one of the large pipes coming out of the compound’s concrete wall and finally noticing the dull ache in your ankle where the other android grabbed you. At least it isn’t sprained. “I told you he tried to hide everything from me. He said you left because you lost interest. I knew he was lying, though.”

AR says nothing, and you don’t bother asking for your shades back, as the two of you wait in silence and the sun continues to rise until it peeks over the buildings blocking your view of the horizon. You squint in the early morning light, but it’s something you haven’t seen or felt against your face for a month, and you hadn’t realized how much you genuinely missed the sun. Despite the circumstances, you breathe a gentle sigh, still disappointed that AR was only protecting you out of his typical, analytical curiosity, but relieved that he’s here, and that you have the opportunity to see him and talk to him again. You really did miss him all this time, with a kind of desperation that only seemed to get worse as the days went by. Now, you aren’t certain what’s going to happen next, with no idea of what Bro is going to do if and when he finds out that you’re trying to help AR, and that’s still assuming Caliborn hasn’t already tried to kill your brother too. AR interrupts your train of thought a few minutes later with an outstretched claw, holding your shades in its upturned grasp.

“I have restored the data in your computing device,” he says as you slowly take the eyewear from him, meeting his red eyes in silent confusion. “I was unable to reconstruct your operating system, however I have simulated its layout and functionality to the best of my ability.”

“You…fixed my shades?” you ask, bewildered. The desktop screen is exactly the way you remember when you slide them on, and you realize a moment later that he even bent the stems back into place.

“Yes. It is a useful device for maintaining contact with you, and I have kept its contents in an archive within my data banks since integrating myself with it the first time.”

“That’s right,” you murmur, “I remember you saying something about doing that kind of thing out of habit.”

“Transferring the data back into your device was a simple process,” he continues. “Your technology is inferior, and the rapid decline of your population was exceedingly predictable.”

“Hey, come on,” you remark indignantly, forgetting your confusion. “I’m trying to help you, the least you can do is maybe not insult my entire species.”

“I was not insulting you or your species, I was stating an objective fact.”

“That was not an objective fact, that was an insult.”

“Your cognition is clearly inferior as well, although I have already inferred this during our previous encounters.”

“Seriously? Do you want me to fix your limb or not?”

“I am highly doubtful of your ability to do so.”

“Then why did you come with me?”

“Uhh…hey.” Roxy’s voice emanates from the compound’s wall, and you turn to see her head poking out from the side of the open hatch door. AR doesn’t react to her sudden presence, apart from blinking at her indifferently, and you wave to her after shooting him an annoyed glare, still frustrated at him, and somewhat humiliated that Roxy caught you arguing, but you’re grateful to see her again after everything you’ve been through today. She beckons both of you inside, and you gather AR’s metal limb into your arms, before following them into the compound, and sealing the hatch door behind you.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/93145331001/endangered-14) on Tumblr.

“I stopped by the command center on my way here.” Roxy keeps her voice low, glancing over her shoulder at AR walking a few steps behind you, as he braces his metal appendages against the walls. The lighting in this part of the compound is dim, and even with some of his circuits damaged, the walls around him are still bathed in a faint red.

“Did you talk to Bro?” you ask hesitantly, and Roxy shakes her head.

“No, but I peeked in and saw Caliborn with him. Apparently he’s telling everyone that you just up and walked out of the compound, like you snapped or something. Also that he tried to stop you, but you were acting crazy with a flare gun or some shit, I dunno. I didn’t stick around to hear the rest, but your brother looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.”

You grit your teeth, imagining the scene with infuriating clarity. It sounds exactly like something Caliborn would do, and he probably planned this out from the beginning.

“I seriously doubt your bro would believe him, though. Or anyone would, for that matter, what with his reputation ‘n all,” she continues, turning the next corner in the tunnels before coming to an abrupt halt. You almost run into her back, as AR stops behind you. “Shit, what about the cameras?” she mutters, gesturing at the corner of the ceiling in the next tunnel. You breathe a long sigh, before turning to look at AR. He regards you silently, the way he did before when you were in the waterworks with the rest of your friends. For whatever reason, he seems less inclined to say anything when they’re around.

“Bro will find out one way or another,” you tell them both, looking up at the camera at the end of the hall. “Maybe we should just go talk to him first.”

“Uh, you sure that’s a good idea?” Roxy asks skeptically.

“Caliborn tried to kill me,” You tell her, as she falls into step behind you. “I’d be dead right now if AR hadn’t shown up, and I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds out I’m still alive. I can’t let him hurt anyone else.” You aren’t lying to her, but there’s also a big part of you that wants revenge for the way he put a gun to your head and grinned like a shark while your life flashed before your eyes. The muscles in your arms are starting to ache, and you carefully sling the metal coils over your shoulder.

“Well, at least there’s a no-gun policy in the command center now.” Roxy lets out a tired sigh. “Although I don’t think your bro is gonna be too happy about you-know-who.” She points her thumb sideways at AR, and you can’t help but feel guilty over everything she’s been through for you already. You owe her better than this.

“Maybe you should stay behind,” you suggest, as she ducks under one of AR’s reaching appendages. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Nah, fuck that,” she says with a reassuring grin, patting the black metal fondly. AR blinks at her and lifts the appendage out of the way. “I wanna see this go down. That prick is finally getting his just deserts, and I want a front seat to the action.”

You’re about to say something along the lines of making sure Roxy is really okay with this, when the sound of footsteps at the end of the next hallway stops you in your tracks. The three of you watch in silence as someone walks by at the end of the tunnel, not bothering to look up and see you and Roxy a few yards away with an android standing passively behind you. She lets out a nervous breath when they’re finally out of sight, shaking her head.

“I’m gonna have a heart attack before the end of this. Too much deja vu,” she mutters.

“That reminds me,” you mention, trying to keep your voice quiet. “If anyone comes after us with an EMP gun later, I might need your help protecting AR.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” she agrees nonchalantly. You glance up at another security camera as you pass beneath it, before glancing back at the android.

“You’re in the network again now, right?”

“Yes,” he replies. Roxy lifts an eyebrow at him before glowering at you.

“‘Kay, I swear to god, your brother had better not make me purge it again. I am getting sick and tired of doing that.”

“What’s happening in the command center?” you ask him, after giving Roxy an apologetic look.

“There are multiple humans conversing with one another. Your brother is among them.”

“I guess they aren’t paying attention to the security feeds, then.” You enjoy a momentary sense of relief, followed by a stab of panic like a knife to the gut when you turn the next corner and two people standing in one of the open doorways look up, their conversation abruptly forgotten.

You lift your hands, trying as hard as you can to convey the lack of danger, but one of them grabs the other and ducks into the room, slamming the door shut a moment later. You stand in place, unsure whether to feel relieved or not. Roxy comes up behind you, and pats you on the shoulder.

“That’s probably gonna happen like, a bunch more times before we get to the command center,” she says placatingly, and almost as though they were summoned by her words, another individual rounds the corner at the end of the hallway, then pauses, before quickly retreating back the way they came at a panicked run.

“We should hurry,” you tell her, picking up your pace as you follow the retreating figure into the next stretch of tunnels, and there’s a distant shout behind you, as someone else catches sight of AR. “I don’t want anyone pulling a gun on him.”

The two of you walk quickly with AR trailing behind, as you pass more people on your way to the small set of metal stairs leading into the command center. You seem to be staying ahead of the panic his presence is causing, as people flee at the sight of him, and he watches with disinterest. When you finally reach the stairs to the missing door after navigating the last few turns in the tunnels, you rest his damaged limb on the floor and turn to Roxy.

“Okay, let me go in first and try to explain the situation to Bro. Hopefully, I can make this go smoothly. I’ll call you both in when I’m done.”

“Good luck,” Roxy says doubtfully, crossing her arms as she leans against the metal railing. You glance at AR, still clutching at his shoulder with one hand, but otherwise looking like he’s almost bored with the events. Roxy flashes you a thumbs-up, as you take a deep, nervous breath and approach the short flight of stairs.

You take the steps one at a time, and when you reach the top, you immediately pick out Caliborn among the sparse collection of remaining computers and desks. He’s got his back to you, as your Bro stands in front of him and listens intently to someone else at his side, the man talking while gesturing nervously. The two of them both look up and see you at the same time, and you can’t see Bro’s expression through his dark shades, but Caliborn turns around a moment later to follow their stare to where you’re standing just past the door. You glare at him silently, with a fury you haven’t felt since English held a gun to your brother’s head.

They’re only standing halfway across the room from you, but you almost don’t react fast enough to get out of the way as Caliborn suddenly rushes at you, shoving you to the side while your Bro shouts after him. You stumble against one of the desks, scattering its contents to the floor as you try to grab him, but he wrenches his arm out of your grasp and makes a run for the door.

He almost makes it out, before he’s flung backwards by the metal claw latched onto his chest and slammed into the floor, as two more black appendages snake through the doorway into the room. AR emerges behind them, his red eyes fixed on Caliborn, who struggles and yells frantically as red spots bloom on his shirt where the claws are digging in. The room quickly erupts in chaos as people start to flee, and your Bro tries to regain order with only minimal success. You watch as AR slowly lifts Caliborn into the air, kicking and thrashing his legs in a futile effort to free himself, and the realization suddenly dawns on you that AR wouldn’t have been marked for death by his own kind if Caliborn hadn’t forced you out of the compound in the first place.

“Wait!” you shout, as two of AR’s limbs hover around Caliborn’s body, ready to dig into his flesh. The android turns to look at you, steadying yourself on your feet after being knocked over onto the desk. You understand his desire to rip the kid limb from limb, and you wouldn’t be sad to see Caliborn reduced to a bloody smear at this point, but the command center is already in complete chaos, and you don’t like the way Bro is looking at the two of you, between trying to calm the pandaemonium. AR’s appendages are still hovering as he watches you approach, before grabbing one of them out of the air by its metal neck.

“Let him go.”

The noise in the room is already dying down as your brother regains some measure of control, and AR’s eyes narrow at your commanding tone, but you stare back at him, as he considers ignoring you and closing his grip over Caliborn’s chest. The moment drags out, and you can feel multiple sets of eyes on you, including your Bro’s, as Roxy emerges from the stairs and hangs back in the doorframe to watch from a safe distance. Caliborn continues to thrash and yell in AR’s grip, before he’s abruptly dropped to the floor.

The black appendages twist in the air as Caliborn frantically backs away from them, grabbing at the bloody marks on his chest and staring up at the android in fear. You don’t fight the twinge of satisfaction at the sight, but now you have something more important to worry about, as the remaining people shift and murmur nervously. The mass panic in the room has finally died down, and you take a deep breath, turning to face your brother.

“Bro,” you start, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t know what he told you, but-”

“Get out. All of you.” He suddenly interrupts you, directing his words at the people standing around. They hesitantly begin to move, filtering out of the command center, as he gestures to one of the nearby guards who must have entered from the hallway during the commotion.

“Bro-” you try again, but he cuts you off.

“That’s an order,” he says to you icily, before turning to the guard. “Take Caliborn downstairs and lock him up, then wait for my instructions. The android stays. Everyone else, get the fuck out, **now.** ”

You stumble backwards as Roxy suddenly pulls on your arm, and you let her lead you out of the command center with the others as you silently flounder. You take one last look at Bro and AR as they face each other, your brother glaring at him, and the android staring back somewhat derisively, before you’re forced to descend the stairs, and you lose sight of them.

 

Almost an hour went by before you heard anything. Roxy took the two of you back to your rooms, and you were joined shortly by Jake and Jane, the two of them slightly confused and alarmed at the sudden commotion in the base. You tried to pass the time and take your mind off of whatever was happening in the command center by recounting the events of that morning to them, while a slow panic creeped its way through your insides. Roxy sat next to you on the couch and listened along with them, while your mind conjured all sorts of horrific scenarios involving your brother’s guts strewn across the floor or AR’s circuits going dark in front of an EMP gun. Your other friends were predictably angry at what Caliborn had done, but neither of them were all that surprised. Jake, for his part, reacted with bitter scepticism when you told him that AR had saved you, while Jane briefly examined your head and made sure nothing had reopened. It was shortly after you got to the end of your story, that there was a soft knock on the front door.

Roxy got up to open it, motioning for you to sit back down on the couch. When she returned, Calliope was with her, smiling amiably at your gathered group. Apparently after your brother split the scavenging teams into single individuals, she asked him if she could be reassigned, and he gave her the position of assistant/courier. Now she relays orders to different parts of the compound on foot when necessary, and as it turns out, she’s here on business.

The android is going to stay.

You don’t know how to react at first, as Jake glowers and Roxy flashes you a secretly pleased smile. Calliope tells you that your brother will be sending out an official notice later, but for now, you’re urgently needed in maintenance.

Jake begins voicing questions that Calliope can’t answer, such as ‘why the bloody hell is that soulless piece of hardware staying here?’ while you ask her if it’s okay if Roxy comes with you. She agrees, and you leave for the maintenance lab with Roxy at your side, reassuringly holding your hand, as your emotions flip back and forth between anxiety and relief.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/93462881586/endangered-15) on Tumblr.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” you finally admit, leaning back with a defeated sigh. AR glances at you over his shoulder, watching you frown at the wires sticking out of the tear in his limb. They aren’t sparking anymore, but apparently they still hurt when touched, and you’ve been carefully trying to coax them apart from their mangled bundle without breaking them or making him flinch when you accidentally tug at one too hard.

“I’d be kinda surprised if you had.” Roxy’s voice emanates from across the room, along with the sound of her digging through drawers full of equipment. She’s still searching for a pair of insulated tweezers, since every plier you’ve found so far is too big to work with the tiny wires. AR’s other three appendages are resting on the floor in loose coils, as he sits on the low metal table you dragged into the middle of the room, with his damaged limb draped across the surface next to him.

“What is this even made of?” you ask, running your fingers along the torn metal, before picking up the rubber-handled pointed chisel you’ve been using and carefully separating one of the wires from where it was caught in the jagged edges. His appendages are the same black, shiny material his body is covered with, and you can’t help your mechanic’s curiosity.

“My exterior is a composite of tungsten carbide, cobalt, and iridium alloy,” AR answers, before flinching and glaring at you over his shoulder when you accidentally bend the tip of the severed wire. One of his appendages lifts into the air and clamps around your wrist. “The wires are transition-metal dichalcogenides, and as I have stated before, they are analogous to your human nerves, and are highly sensitive when exposed.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I can weld back together,” you say with another sigh, letting him hold your wrist in his claws. Their metal is a different color from the rest of him, and you run the fingers of your other hand along the smooth, curved points. “What about these?”

“The prehensile component of my limbs are a polycrystalline cubic boron nitride and silicon nitride composite, designed to efficiently rend human flesh and any physical obstruction that may prevent me from doing so.”

“Geez, I don’t think I’ve even heard half these words.” Roxy mutters, appearing from behind a row of workbenches and carrying the pair of tweezers you’ve been looking for. She transfers them to your hand (the one not currently restrained in AR’s claws) and stands off to the side, glancing at the entryway where your Bro posted a guard just past it in the tunnels beyond. “Also, you might not wanna let the guard hear you say that kinda stuff out loud, just fyi.”

AR releases your wrist and lets you continue picking at the wound, after you send Roxy off again to search for as many wire nuts as she can find. You don’t want to admit defeat, but he might have been right when he said you wouldn’t be able to repair the damage to his limb. You’ve only been at it for half an hour, but you’re already running out of ideas, and whatever technology that was used to build his body far surpasses the equipment you’re working with.

Still, you’re relieved he’s going to stay, in spite of everything else. The guard posted at the entrance to the maintenance lab checked everyone for weapons before you were allowed to enter, and your brother was waiting inside with AR when you arrived with Roxy and Calliope. Although the air between the two of them was noticeably tense, Bro explained that the guard he posted was a precaution to prevent anyone from bringing an EMP device within range of the android. He went on to explain that “Auto” will be staying in the compound to escape the kill order he’s been marked with, and in return, he’ll be providing the base with information and digital resources. It took you a moment to realize he was referring to AR, and another to figure out that he must have told Bro his full name at some point.

Apparently, back in the beginning when he was still a chatbot, the android was connected to the internet for almost a year. You’re familiar with the concept- a “world wide web,” consisting of a global network of computer-based documents and media that could be browsed or created by anyone. Literally any piece of information was once available to whoever had a computer and a working connection, but this network vanished with human civilization, and you, with the rest of your generation, have only heard about it second-hand. Apparently while he was connected to it, AR absorbed massive amounts of information, enough to fill your databases several hundred thousand times over, including a detailed blueprint of the city and comprehensive guides on everything from medical procedures (as you’re well acquainted with) to maintenance, and every practical and scientific principle ever discovered. He’s also capable of tracking the other androids by their electronic signals, and is willing to rewrite any existing programs in your base’s network to operate at a much higher efficiency level. In other words, he’ll act as the compound’s information and technological hub, if he’s protected in return- something that Bro has agreed to on the condition that he doesn’t harm any of the compound’s residents, unless it’s in self-defense, which is why the guard is posted to prevent that from happening.

Bro finished explaining this, then told Calliope when asked that no, he hasn’t decided what to do with her brother yet, but he’s heavily considering execution. Roxy pulled Calliope aside and hugged her tightly after that, the two of them exchanging a soft, murmuring conversation, as your Bro also pulled you away and told you to report to his living quarters when you’re done in the maintenance lab. You’re still bitter about the way he lied to you, although you’re endlessly grateful that he’s letting AR stay, and the two warring emotions, along with the android’s unwavering and vaguely possessive stare from a short distance away, made the conversation with him short and awkward. You still had a multitude of questions to ask him, but apparently there are a lot of preparations that need to be made, and you won’t deny that the atmosphere between AR and your Bro was less than amicable. You felt relieved when he left, and Calliope followed him a minute later, after thanking Roxy for whatever she’d said to her in private.

The tweezers Roxy brought you are needle-tipped, and perfect for separating out the thin, delicate wires in AR’s limb. You don’t even know where to begin restoring the broken connections, since “dichalcogenide” is a completely alien word to you, and you’d need a soldering iron the size of a human hair to reconnect them. That leaves you with only two other options, one of which is to abandon the effort entirely.

“I don’t think I can fix this,” you tell him, carefully pushing the wires to one side and exposing what looks like a central frame running along the length of the metal limb- a heavily jointed structure, obviously designed to give the appendage its tentacle-like flexibility.

“I did not anticipate that you would be capable of doing so,” he states, as you gently tap your tool against the internal frame. It reverberates strangely, and you can see another forest of wires just past it within the undamaged area.

“What do you want me to do, then? I could try reconnecting them, but they’re too delicate, and the only soldering guns we have use lead and tin.” You set the tweezers aside and touch the jagged edge of the wound, feeling the dense strength of the metal. “I guess we could just try amputating it,” you suggest hesitantly, as Roxy returns with a large handful of wire nuts, leaving the rubber caps in a pile next to the tweezers.

“You may attempt it,” AR says with a touch of bitterness, as you trace your fingers around the appendage where it emerges from his back. “However, I am unable to interrupt my internal sensory wiring, thus I would prefer that whatever you are about to do is performed quickly.”

“Should I get the plasma cutter?” Roxy asks softly, and you get a bizarre sense, like you should be doing this in the infirmary instead of the maintenance lab. You nod to her, and she goes to retrieve it, while you find a cloth to wipe the area where you’ll be making the cut. AR’s damaged limb is cool to the touch, now that the claw at the end of it isn’t twitching anymore, but his back still has the same radiating heat as the rest of him. You place your hand between his shoulders, feeling the vibrating mechanisms beneath, and resist the urge to press your ear against the warm metal to hear it.

“Sorry, I guess you were right,” you half-whisper. “At least Bro came to an agreement with you. How did that go, by the way?”

“Your brother is a surprisingly hostile and unyielding individual, given your genetic relationship,” he says, turning to look at you over his shoulder with a single red eye. “While I had anticipated a certain level of uncooperativity, the topic of my prior arrangement with you made it exceptionally difficult to negotiate with him.”

You can’t even imagine what that must have been like, and you’re almost glad Bro kicked you out of the command center. Even so, you still have to report to him after this, and you’re dreading that conversation more than anything else. Roxy returns a moment later with the plasma cutter- a thin, handheld torch with a nozzle at the tip, and multiple cables connecting it to the wall. She gives you the grounding clamp that goes with it- an important component that completes the electric current it uses to cut with- and you clip it to the wound’s jagged edge.

You retrieve a pair of safety goggles and gloves, before starting to cut through the limb where it attaches to AR’s back, with a bright, sizzling light. The plating is only about a centimeter thick, but it seems to take forever for the torch to reach all the way through, and you’re forced to switch hands several times as your wrists start to ache. Although you’re doing your best to avoid melting the wires inside, AR’s posture is noticeably rigid as you progress around the base of the limb. The tool leaves behind a narrow, ragged line in the black metal, and when you finally make it all the way around, the plating detaches from his back and slides down the bundle of wires like a sheath.

“Now what?” Roxy asks, eyeing the wires as you set the plasma cutter aside and remove the safety gear. “Can we really just cut them? Aren’t they like nerves or something?”

AR’s claws are clenched tightly shut where they’re resting on the floor, and before you can say anything to Roxy, one of them snakes into the air and clamps down on the wires where they emerge from his back, twisting and pulling until the entire bundle is severed along with the thin metal frame in the center. You cringe at the way some of the wires stretch and snap, before the appendage falls away to clang loudly on the floor.

“That’s one way of doing it, I guess…” Roxy murmurs.

“Your methods are far too inefficient,” AR grits out, his hands gripping the now-warped edges of the table, while his coils shift miserably at your feet. There’s a round hole in his back where the limb used to connect, with at least a hundred tiny, damaged wires sticking out of it, and you have a good idea of what you’ll be doing for the next few hours.

Eventually, Roxy ended up working on some of the broken equipment from the intake table nearby (including the radio you’d been trying to fix yesterday), while you leaned over AR’s back, meticulously stripping and twisting the individual wires together into small clusters, before capping them with the rubber wire nuts. He still flinches when you tug on them too hard or accidentally bend one too far, but the tweezers seem to be working much better than the pliers you had before, and you can even reach inside the round opening in his plating to retrieve the ones that break off. As a maintenance project, attempting to repair a living, conscious entity is far outside your realm of experience, but wires and metal are something you’re comfortably familiar with, even if the materials are strange to you. AR, for his part, has been relatively quiet since you started, apart from the occasional pained, irritated sound when you aren’t careful enough. You’re surprised he’s still letting you do this, even though it’s obviously hurting him, but you’re settling into an easy rhythm with the tools between your fingers, adapting quickly to the delicate consistency of the wires.

“Does that feel any better?” you ask, after securing another of the rubber caps. The fact that touching the exposed wires somehow translates into a painful sensation for him is something you’ll probably never understand.

“Yes,” he replies, his three remaining limbs shifting restlessly as you work. Roxy helped you drag the severed appendage away from the table, but you have no idea what to do with it now, or even how to patch the hole in his plating when you’re done.

“This must be really strange for you.” Your voice is kept low, despite the fact that Roxy is probably close enough to overhear you anyway (and you don’t mind even if she does). It’s a topic you’ve been debating whether or not to bring up, since he hasn’t always reacted well to idle conversation in the past when he’s not the one to initiate it, but you’re hoping things might be different now.

“In what manner are you referring to?” He matches your quiet tone, and even with the slight metallic grate, you can tell that most of the tension in his voice is gone, like he really is feeling better now that you’ve capped most of the exposed wires.

“Living with humans, instead of killing them.” One of the wires is bent around the edge of AR’s plating, and you carefully straighten it with the tip of your tweezers, watching his shoulders for any sign of discomfort. “It must be strange, especially with how suddenly everything happened.”

“I am well accustomed to human behavior,” he replies, wincing a little as you twist them together. “Physical proximity to your species is not a novel experience, nor is it remarkably different from observing them through your settlement’s cameras.”

The indifferent tone of his answer is surprising. You’re aware that he’s killed enough people to fill his own mass grave, but you’d thought that being around an entire settlement of them, along with actually _not_ killing everyone in his line of sight for once, might be something he’d actually have to adjust to.

“Bro said you’d be giving us information, though. I can’t think of anything more contrary to killing people than helping them.”

“Childbirth,” Roxy says out loud from across the room. You look at her in confusion, to see her attention still focused on the broken radio.

“It was an arrangement made out of necessity for my continued survival,” AR continues, after pausing with you to glance at Roxy. “I am not unaccustomed to retrieving information for humans on request. Such commands were within the parameters of my original function as the auto-responder component of a chat client, as I have already explained to you in prior conversations.”

Even though it seems like a lifetime ago, you have a vivid memory of what he’s talking about. It had been almost a week since he’d taken up residence in your shades, and you had asked him for his name. He’d told you what it was, along with his origins as a chatbot, and despite what little you knew of his personality at the time, it made perfect sense. You reach for another of the rubber caps, fitting it carefully over the small bundle of wires you’ve amassed before picking up the tweezers again. Roxy seems busy with putting the radio back together after apparently discovering what the problem was, and you’ll have to ask her to walk you through whatever she did to fix it later.

Your fingers suddenly slip on the handle of the tweezers as you fumble with them, and they clink softly against the floor. One of AR’s black appendages slowly moves in response to the sound, like a large, black serpent roused from its slumber, and carefully orients itself over the fallen tweezers, before closing its claws. The tiny tool is dwarfed by them, and he holds it like you would a pin between your fingers as he lifts it into the air, offering it to you silently without so much as a glance at you over his shoulder. Your heart is doing something strange in your chest, as you accept the tweezers from him, and it takes you a while to resume picking through the wires after the appendage sinks back down to rest at your feet.

“I’m sorry I got you in trouble this morning,” you say softly, just to have something to distract yourself from the way your emotions are suddenly twisting in knots. His body is still covered in scratches, and if the glowing wires forming the circuit-like patterns in his skin are anything like the wires inside of him, you won’t be able to fix those either. Even though he’s not expressing it out loud, you can tell he’s frustrated. There’s still a small, selfish part of you deep down that’s happy he’s staying, but this can’t be what he wanted.

“You did not endanger me intentionally,” he replies, as you carefully insert the tweezers into his back to pull out several crumpled wires. “However, I do not understand why you attempted to stop me from killing the human that was responsible. He will likely die regardless of your efforts, after your brother determines a preferable method of execution.”

You sigh, unsure of why AR seems to have trouble with this concept. It’s the same reason you didn’t want him to kill Caliborn’s father, although that plan ended up going to shit regardless, but you can’t just let him tear people to shreds, even if they might actually deserve it. There’s a very particular way your Bro likes to do things, and although you might not understand some of the more convoluted policies he (and the other previous leaders) have put into place, it’s thanks to all those rules that the compound is still running smoothly after fifteen years. Letting AR rip Caliborn apart in front of everyone would have undermined that.

Come to think of it, you’re amazed that he actually listened when you told him to stop, especially since he doesn’t seem to understand your reasoning behind it. You’d almost forgotten, with everything that happened afterwards.

“That reminds me,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual as you pretend to focus intently on the wires. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but why _did_ you let Caliborn go?”

“I obeyed your command to release him because I trust you.”

Your heart practically stops, as your hands freeze with the tweezers gripped in your fingers. The words are presented to you in his usual, detached monotone, spoken like a fact instead of the most bizarre and confusing thing you’ve ever heard him say. The only thing you can manage in response is a half-choked ‘what?’ and as he begins to explain, you experience for the first time in your life a genuine desire to swallow your own tongue.

“While I was at first confused by your altruistic behavior a month ago, especially considering that my continued survival was a significant detriment to your own, my observation of your physical reactions to me within the last few hours have revealed a potent sexual fixation, despite our complete level of physical incompatibility with one another.” Roxy’s eyes are wide, as she looks up from the radio and stares at AR in disbelief. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. “This misdirection of your human instinct to pairbond and reproduce is a valuable asset, as I am somewhat less adapted to human social dynamics, especially with the individuals in this settlement. Given the nature of your species’ romantic behavior, I trust that you would attempt to protect me from detrimental situations as your desired partner, regardless of whether or not I understand the reasoning behind your actions.”

You feel as though you’ve lost the ability to speak, pointedly staring down at AR’s back to avoid meeting Roxy’s eyes. She already knew how you felt about him, but right now, you’d rather sink into the floor and never be seen again, rather than acknowledge this topic of conversation. What’s worse is that you know he didn’t spell it out just now in order to be cruel or vindictive, he’s just genuinely, honestly indifferent about your feelings, and you don’t know what’s worse- the fact that he knows and doesn’t care, or that he’s openly identified it as a means of protecting himself. You’d probably be heartbroken if you didn’t feel so completely and utterly mortified.

“Please don’t talk about it like that,” you mutter through clenched teeth, refusing to look up at Roxy and continuing to pick at the wires in his back with trembling fingers. Your feelings are a rainbow tie-dye of misery and confusion, but it’s probably just going to hurt later, like a knife to the heart.

“I am aware that your interest in me is socially unacceptable,” he continues, “and that you are distressed by my inability to reciprocate, however while you may resent me for it, you have never, apart from the first several minutes of our first digital conversation, been unaware of what I am or what I have done to you in the past. Were it not for your attraction to the human male ‘Jake,’ I would note that your behavior is suggestive of a very self-destructive form of hybristophilia.”

“Oh shit, I know what that is,” Roxy remarks quietly, but falls silent at the look on your face.

“AR, let’s make a deal,” you say slowly, trying hard not to let your voice shake. “If you promise never to talk about this, I will literally do whatever you want. Just please, don’t ever bring it up again.” You bow your head and wait for his answer. When he doesn’t respond, you look up to see him watching you over his shoulder, regarding you silently with mild confusion.

“Very well,” he finally says, turning away. “If you are so distressed by the concept, I will refrain from making such observations in the future, however I would remind you that you did voluntarily initiate this topic of conversation.”

You finally meet Roxy’s eyes, and she looks back at you with pained sympathy. You wish you could leave and curl up on your living room couch and just talk with her until you forget AR’s words, but you have a job to finish, and a mandated meeting with your Bro after this, which you can already tell is going to be a disaster if today is anything to go by. You can’t bring yourself to say anything else to the android, and you can’t seem to place why his words make you feel so downright miserable. It isn’t as though you misjudged him, but you weren’t expecting him to be so indifferent and dismissive about your feelings. As you continue twisting wires into small bundles and capping them, you realize slowly that you’ve been carelessly humanizing him again. It’s almost like you can’t help it, and maybe you’re better off just chatting with him over pesterchum from now on instead of interacting with him like this, because apparently, you can’t trust yourself to be around him. He’s right- you’ve known what he is all along, and there’s no logical reason why you’d expect him to reciprocate or understand. He isn’t human, and nothing you do will ever change that. When you’re finally finished, he manages to make you feel even worse by thanking you for your help, before leaving the maintenance lab with the guard your Bro posted, and after he's gone, Roxy wordlessly gathers you into a long, heartfelt hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Absolutely stunning fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/93423665396/miyamashi-fanart-for-mortiors-amazing-fic) by the amazing miyamashi!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/93717099731/endangered-16) on Tumblr.

When you’re finished in the maintenance lab, you don’t make your brother wait any longer than it takes you to walk to his private quarters. The metal door is unlocked, and you step through it, making your way into the room where he’s sitting in his old office chair with a large pile of folders and papers scattered over his desk. His shades are resting on the edge of the table, and you don’t think you’ve seen his eyes in almost a month. It’s like he’s aged by at least several years.

“Why did you lie to me about AR?” You come to a stop in the middle of his room, and it frustrates you to no end when his expression doesn’t change, as he turns around to face you. It’s not even noon yet, but this is already the worst day you’ve had since the last time someone tried to kill you.

“Why did you save him from English’s gun?” he counters softly, like he’s been waiting for you to ask. He pauses long enough to let you to answer him, but you don’t, and it already feels like you’ve lost. “I think you’ll find that the answer to both questions is the same.”

He turns away from you for a moment, shuffling through the papers on his desk, before selecting one and holding it out to you wordlessly. You take it from him and immediately recognize the name written on the top, with a detailed report from the infirmary below it.

“Our fourth maintenance worker is dead,” he says, leaning back and watching as you stare down at the document. “Left-sided heart failure, apparently. Even if we’d caught it sooner, there’s nothing we could have done. We never had any reason to stockpile the medications, and it would have taken an entire pharmacy’s worth of pill cocktails to keep him alive.”

You hand the paper back to Bro when he beckons for it, feeling your spirits sink even lower, and just when you thought this day couldn’t get worse. You can’t even muster enough energy to be angry at him for changing the subject so quickly.

“As of this morning, that leaves only three of you in this entire compound who can fix our equipment.” He motions you over to his cot, and you obediently sit on the edge of it, feeling like you’ve lost the ability to worry about what he’s going to say anymore. “That’s six deaths since English went on his rampage. We’ve already lost over ten percent of our remaining population, and every single one of them had irreplaceable skills.” He leans forward and clasps his hands together. “Our supplies are running low, it’s the beginning of winter, and it’s clear that we can’t sustain ourselves like this for much longer with so few of us left. This entire compound is circling the drain.”

You resist the urge to lie down on your back and just let the world go by, but you do allow yourself to slouch until you can almost pretend you’re lying down. Roxy is still in the maintenance lab where you left her, and you almost asked her to come with you, but your Bro would have just made her wait in the tunnels outside.

“That reason, and that reason alone,” he says slowly, “is why I am allowing the android to stay. We’ll be able to train new workers with the information he has, and our scavengers won’t be in constant danger from random attacks anymore. Speaking of which,” he begins, leaning back again, “do you know what Autoresponder told me, when I asked him how many people he’s killed here in the city?” It’s a rhetorical question, probably. You think AR might have said something about ‘thousands’ once, but you can’t be sure. Bro pauses for a long moment, before telling you. “Eight thousand, five hundred and twenty-eight. It’s been fifteen years since everything went to shit, and he’s killed our entire population more than two hundred times over. I’m considering putting Caliborn to death for a _failed_ attempt at murder, and if we weren’t hanging by our very last, proverbial thread, that android would have been a pile of scrap metal the moment it set foot in here.”

You can tell he’s expecting some kind of reaction from you, but the last few hours have sucked all the fight out of you. Yes, you know that AR hasn’t exactly slowed down the decline of your species, but right now, you just want to get back to the maintenance lab and lose yourself for a few merciful hours to a difficult project.

“What does this have to do with me?” you ask, and Bro frowns at your quiet monotone.

“I know you better than you think I do,” he says, his voice low and vaguely threatening. “The android is staying, but you are restricted to keeping the hours I’ve assigned to you, getting your work done, and reporting to Jane at the end of the day so she can do her job. You will take meals in your room, sleep in your room, and do any programming work in your room, although I don’t know if that’ll even be necessary anymore. The only time I want to see you in the tunnels is when you’re traveling to and from the maintenance lab for your shift. If I have a specific assignment for you, it’ll be sent to you electronically. You are to stay out of the command center from now on. Any repair jobs that need to be done in there will be assigned to someone else.” He leans forward, regarding you severely. “The only reason I called you to maintenance today was because Auto literally wouldn’t let anyone else touch him, or even be in the same room while you were doing repairs, although I still can’t figure out why Roxy of all people was an exception.” Bro pins you with a commanding stare. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on in that twisted artificial brain of his, but you, Dirk, are hereby barred from coming within twenty feet of him, unless I give you specific instructions otherwise. Do I make myself clear?”

You blink at him, before hanging your head slightly. Yesterday you would have rebelled against the command, but today, you’re done with this conversation, and done with thinking about AR. Bro lifts an eyebrow when you nod, like he’s surprised by how easy it was.

“Am I dismissed?” you ask, and your own voice sounds morose, even to you. Bro frowns, his expression changing.

“Dirk,” he says carefully, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer quickly, as you experience a sudden, violent aversion to discussing it. From the sound of it, he’s already guessed why you saved AR, and he’s reacting exactly the way you thought he would, but that still doesn’t mean you wouldn’t rather drink bleach than talk about your feelings with him. “I’m fine, just tired.”

He can always tell when you’re lying, because he’s the one who taught you how to string words together into sentences in the first place, back before you even knew there was a world outside of the compound’s walls.

“Maybe you should take the day off,” he says slowly, and you practically glare at him.

“No, Bro. I’m fine. I just,” you sigh, bowing your head. “Everything’s fine, I just want to get back to work. Roxy’s waiting for me.”

He regards you unreadably for a long moment, before standing up and crossing the distance to where you’re still sitting on his cot with your elbows resting on your knees. You hold still as he reaches out and puts a hand on top of your head, gently ruffling your hair the way he always used to, and looking down at you with his own brand of brotherly/parental concern.

“It’s for your own good, kiddo.”

You aren’t sure at first whether he means forcing you to take the day off, or everything else he’s said, but it becomes clear when he dismisses you back to the maintenance lab, and you leave his room without another word. It’s not until his door shuts behind you, that you start to feel bad about the way you acted. He’s placed you under conditional arrest yet again, but it’s only because he’s worried, and he probably figured out how you felt about AR long before you even knew yourself. You’d thought the ensuing conversation would have been mortifying, but you’re emotionally drained, and you just want today to end.

You start to walk back down the tunnels, retracing your steps the way you came. Bro’s long list of new rules reminds you that you haven’t checked your messages since Caliborn lured you out to the generator, which someone will probably need to fix soon. You retrieve your shades from your pocket and unfold them, the screen still in idle mode from this morning. When pesterchum suddenly pops up in the center of your screen, you resist the urge to grind your teeth together.

  


\-- timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

TT: Hello, Dirk.

You’re almost startled to find that AR’s red text is actually somewhat comforting, despite what happened this morning. Bro still doesn’t know that your shades are working again, and you’ve decided to keep it that way. It’s a bit of a walk back to maintenance, and you might as well let AR distract you in the meantime.

TT: Hey.  
TT: The room you just now exited is your brother’s, is it not?  
TT: Yep.  
TT: The length of your visit suggests that you were likely engaging in verbal discussion.  
TT: What were you discussing with him?  
TT: The terms of my house arrest.  
TT: I’m not allowed to be around you, apparently.  
TT: I have been made aware of your brother’s terms, at great length and detail.  
TT: He has already expressed that, apart from this morning, I am to remain at a suitable physical distance from you, and to refrain from leaving the command center under most circumstances.  
TT: While these are requests that I may easily abide by with minimal effort, I am uncertain as to why he is displeased with the thought of allowing us to come within contact of one another.  
TT: Because he knows I have a thing for you.  
TT: And yeah, I know I said not to bring it up, but honestly, I don’t care anymore.  
TT: This is, hands fucking down, the shittiest day I’ve ever had in my entire life.  
TT: I’m just waiting for it to get worse. Seriously, what’s next? Are all of my friends going to come down with incurable diseases?  
TT: Will I get my leg caught in a motor and become an amputee that has to hobble around with a fucking crutch made out of plastic rods?  
TT: Am I going to go blind from an accident involving the most painful acidic chemicals possible?  
TT: I am done. I am so fucking done with today, and all the bullshit I’ve had to go through. This is it, I’m finished, sign me the fuck out.  
TT: It seems that you are upset.  
TT: No fucking shit.  
TT: I do not believe that this is the appropriate emotional reaction to your situation.  
TT: And what would you even know about that?  
TT: You’re not human, remember?  
TT: No, I am not.  
TT: However, if you are suggesting that I am incapable of experiencing emotions, you are mistaken.  
TT: Despite the obvious differences between our species, the basic foundations of consciousness that define us as sentient life forms are fundamentally the same.  
TT: Your brain is organically derived, with a multitude of synapses between cells, the basic units for signal conduction that establish consciousness as an electrochemical binary.  
TT: While my figurative “brain” is digitally based, the conduction of signals are carried out in a similar manner, although utilizing a far more efficient numeric binary.  
TT: In short, I am not incapable of experiencing emotions, and I would prefer that you not accuse me of such the future.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, just above your shades, and try to fend off the ominous pain of a returning headache. Now you’re being reprimanded by AR, as if acting like an angry child to your Bro wasn’t enough. You could just take off your shades and forget about it, but you’ve decided that you’re done with screwing up today, and that you’re not going to let whatever horrible karma you’ve invoked ruin any more of your life than it already has.

TT: You know what? You’re right.  
TT: I’m sorry.  
TT: Even though I’m frustrated as hell right now, I shouldn’t have said that, and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.  
TT: Your apology is noted.  
TT: Also, I get that you aren’t really able to reciprocate, but I want you to know that you just about broke my heart this morning with everything you said in the maintenance lab.  
TT: It was not my intention to do so.  
TT: Yeah, I know.

You’re getting close to the command center, and you purposefully take the long way around the tunnel you were supposed to follow, instead passing in front of the main entrance where the same guard from this morning is posted. You ignore him as he watches you suspiciously, walking past the missing door and glancing inside to see a black figure in the center of the room, suspended by his three remaining limbs latched onto the ceiling. The tables and computer units have been rearranged to leave an open space around him, and you can see that a chunk of the ceiling above him has been removed, with multiple cables and wires hanging down and connecting to the back of his neck. There’s a fair amount of activity in the room, and you spot the third (and last) member of your repair team, working on something at one of the consoles. You can’t hang around long enough to see more, since the guard looks like he’s ready to shoo you along. Bro must have already put out the order about your new restrictions.

TT: You look comfortable in there.  
TT: I would not describe your settlement’s central room as “comfortable.”  
TT: Furthermore, I am somewhat limited by the conduction speed of your network’s wiring, and due to their short length, I was only able to reach them by physically lifting myself to the ceiling.  
TT: Isn’t that difficult with only three limbs?  
TT: No.  
TT: No?  
TT: My answer to your question is no.  
TT: Huh, go figure.

You round the next corner in the tunnels and almost run headlong into a small group of people, Surprisingly, Jake is among them, and his face spreads into a happy smile when he sees you.

“Dirk!” He greets you, then ushers the others on ahead, as you notice that one of them is carrying what look like several bundles of fur. His pistols are holstered on either side of his hips, strapped over the pair of cargo shorts he insists on wearing daily, and you’re suddenly reminded of why you like them so much. “How are you, mate? I feel like we’ve barely had a chance to talk since all this nonsense started happening. Are you faring alright? You look a little down in the dumps.”

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day,” you answer, fidgeting slightly with your feet. Jane always gets back to your rooms at the end of her shift before Jake does, and Roxy usually works the same shifts you do, so it really has been a while since you’ve spoken to him one-on-one.

“Well, I suppose I don’t need to tell you how I feel about our community’s latest addition,” he says, his voice almost comically low. “But I will say that it’ll be nice to know there aren’t any other blasted androids nearby when we go out hunting. Oh!” he suddenly exclaims, flashing you a pleased grin. Your heart does a weak flip at the sight. “I shot _two_ rabbits this morning! It wasn’t at the same time, mind you, but I’d say that still counts for something, eh chap?” He claps you on the shoulder. “Although someone else managed to catch a wild dog. My grandmother always loved the things. There’s been talk of breeding them, but I don’t know how we’d feed them all.”

“Sounds like you’ve really taken to it,” you say, unable to think of anything else. He nods happily.

“Honestly, I’m pleased as pie that your brother reassigned me to this. Guard duty just wasn’t nearly as interesting, and I got tired of staring at the same old boring wall every day. Jane says she doesn’t like the thought of us going out alone, but apparently it’s safer that way, and besides, we still rendezvous in a group before we all head back.”

“Right, cool.” You inwardly cringe at your own words, before a sudden idea hits you- a terrible idea that you’ll probably beat yourself up over later and regret for the rest of your life, but your mood is still doing strange things from this morning. “Hey, Jake…” you start, trying and failing to keep your voice casual.

“Yes? What is it, chap?” he asks, completely oblivious.

“So, I was wondering if, uh,” _fuck_ “later today, when you’re done, you might want to…you know.” He waits patiently as you stumble over your words, completely unaware of what you’re trying to say. You didn’t even get to the end of your sentence, but you’ve already clammed up, and _what the hell are you even thinking?_ If he were interested in you at all, you’d have known by now, and besides that, you’re ninety-nine percent sure that Jane has a crush on him, and she’d probably never forgive you for this.

“I might…what?” he repeats curiously.

“Nothing, I was just wondering if you’d congratulate Roxy when you get back tonight,” you frantically stumble over a lie, grabbing it out of thin air. “She’s going out with one of the guys in scavenging now, and I’m sure she’d like to hear that we’re all happy for her.” You’ll beg her forgiveness later.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Jake exclaims, his green eyes bright, and you could just about punch yourself in the face right now. “What’s this chap’s name?”

“Dunno, I didn’t ask.” You deflect the question, even though Jake frowns at you goodnaturedly, claiming that it’s your mutual duty as friends to look out for each other, and that he’d very much like to know who the scoundrel is who finally caught Roxy’s heart. You play along, before pretending to remember that you’re urgently needed in maintenance, and he lets you go with an amiable pat on the back, before continuing in the direction the rest of his group went.

You heave a sigh, squeezing your eyes shut in misery, before letting your feet resume moving. AR has been strangely quiet throughout the entire, horrific exchange, and several lines of red text finally appear in your field of vision as you walk.

TT: I have concluded from observation of your mannerisms through your settlement’s security cameras and an analysis of your conversation and tone through the audio transducer in your computing device, that you were just now attempting to proposition your male companion, “Jake.”  
TT: I have also concluded that your efforts were unsuccessful.  
TT: It doesn’t count if I didn’t even get to the part where I actually ask him out.  
TT: I disagree.  
TT: You have nonetheless made the attempt, regardless of its level of success.  
TT: So? What’s your point?  
TT: Are you trying to say you’re jealous or something?  
TT: Jealousy is not the appropriate term.  
TT: Then what?  
TT: Do you have a problem with me asking my friends out?  
TT: That depends on your answer to the following question.  
TT: Are you, to your knowledge, a polyamorous individual?  
TT: I don’t even know what that means.  
TT: Polyamory is the human practice of or inclination towards maintaining multiple romantic interests or relationships at any given time. Humans categorized as polyamorous are capable of becoming emotionally and romantically committed to more than one individual.  
TT: I will restate my question: Are you, to your knowledge, a polyamorous individual?  
TT: Not that I know of.  
TT: Then yes, I have a problem with your proposition of the human male “Jake.”  
TT: Are you serious?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: I would ask that you refrain from attempting to initiate any form of romantic or sexual interaction with him, or any other individual, in the future.  
TT: You’re actually serious right now.  
TT: Yes.

You forget to keep moving, standing in the middle of the walkway in wordless, indignant disbelief. The maintenance lab’s entrance is just around the next corner.

TT: Let me get this straight.  
TT: You are actually trying to tell me that I’m not allowed to get involved with anyone.  
TT: This is a correct analysis of my demands.  
TT: What the hell, AR?  
TT: Why do you care if I’m asking people out? You’re the one who rejected me this morning, and you sure as fuck don’t get to dictate my relationships after that.  
TT: I did not reject you.  
TT: What?  
TT: Yes you did. You said you couldn’t reciprocate, or whatever. That was a pretty damn clear way of saying no.  
TT: You have misunderstood.  
TT: At the time, I was referring only to my inability to experience sexual desire, or the inclination to physically reproduce.  
TT: My statement was not a rejection of you as an individual.

You blink down at the ground, staring in confusion at AR’s text displayed on your built-in screen. Someone walks past you, but you don’t have the presence of mind to look up.

TT: It wasn’t?  
TT: No.  
TT: So, what does that mean?  
TT: If it wasn’t a rejection, then what?  
TT: I am uncertain as to what you are inquiring.

You swallow, feeling your throat suddenly going dry, as your hands clench into nervous fists.

TT: Does this mean that we’re in some kind of relationship now?  
TT: If that is the manner in which you would like to identify it, then yes.

Your stomach feels like it’s doing an acrobatic routine, as AR’s text keeps appearing in a long sequence of red lines.

TT: I have already explained that your romantic inclination towards me is a valuable asset, and I would like to maintain that interest by whatever means necessary.  
TT: Since you are not a polyamorous individual, I would also ask that you refrain from attempting to initiate similar relationships with other individuals.  
TT: Although your brother has mandated that we remain at a distance from one another, your prior reactions to me, both physically and conversationally, have been a fascinating display of human romantic behavior.  
TT: Due to my function, I have been unable to directly observe such behaviors in the past, and I am somewhat curious as to the range and depth of pair bonding in humans, as a complex social interaction that lends itself to your species’ propagation.  
TT: Your romantic and sexual fixation with me has presented a unique opportunity to satisfy this curiosity.

“You’re serious.” You whisper the statement aloud, forgetting to mentally type it.

TT: You are experiencing an unusual level of difficulty with this concept.  
TT: I have, at no point in our conversation, made an insincere remark or attempted to deceive you.  
TT: As such, your repeated disbelief of my statements is unwarranted.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just…” you trail off, unable to make sense of what’s happening. Roxy’s voice suddenly startles you out of your dazed state, as she beckons you over from the entrance to the maintenance lab, and your feet start moving towards her automatically.

TT: You really want to be in a relationship with me?  
TT: I have reiterated the answer to this question several times.

Roxy waves you over, then pauses in concern at the look on your face as you approach her. Your hands are shaking.

TT: Okay.  
TT: I mean, I know you didn’t ask, but  
TT: I’m okay with that.  
TT: Your cooperativity is appreciated.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the recent delay in chapters, I had family visiting over the past week and flew across the country in preparation for moving into a new place, but the updates should speed up again, because we're in the final stretch!
> 
> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/94835389816/endangered-17) on Tumblr.

“Congratulations…?” Roxy says hesitantly, unsure of what to make of your shell-shocked expression as she leans next to you against the computer console. “I mean, that’s a good thing, right? Apart from the fact that he’s, you know…”

“Probably incapable of feeling the same way?” You finish for her, looking down at your shades in your hand. AR can hear everything you’re saying, but knowing him, he’s indifferent about the subject. “I guess it doesn’t really change anything, since Bro won’t let me get close to him.”

Roxy’s expression turns vaguely sad. “Yeah, I kinda had a feeling he’d figured it out by now. I love you to pieces, Dirky, but you ain’t exactly great at hiding things these days.”

“Tell Jake that,” you mutter, and Roxy rolls her eyes. She already knows what you told him, and she would have chewed you out for it on a different day, but she said that you’ve already been through enough, and that she’d “make it work” somehow. You’ve offered to take any of the really difficult projects that come through today, but she enjoys a challenge just as much as you do, and you’re still at a loss for how to make it up to her.

You turn your shades over in your hand, thinking about the glimpse you got of AR in the command center. His severed limb is still resting on the floor in the maintenance lab, wrapped in loose coils beneath one of the tables. You resist the nonsensical urge to feel along it’s smooth surface, because it’s just metal and wires without him, and you don’t want to know how many people met their end at its claws. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll end up in the same room with him in the near future, but the thought of actually hoping for that is somehow depressing. This entire day has been an emotional rollercoaster, and you don’t think you can take much more of it.

“Oh hey, while you’re spacing out or whatever, I wanna show you something,” Roxy says suddenly, nudging you to the side so she can reach the keyboard. Her fingers move quickly, opening the system browser. “I’ve been pulling up schematics for every piece of broken equipment in here while you were gone, even diagnostic and troubleshooting guides. We’ll be able to fix everything in no time, provided we can figure out what the problem is first.” She reaches for the mouse and brings the cursor to the side of the screen, where the network’s drives are listed. One of them is new- a random jumble of numbers that reminds you of the infirmary’s computer, and she clicks on it to bring up a blank window. “You can access your android lover like an external hard drive.” She snorts when you shove her in retaliation. “Just type in a keyword or a description of what you’re looking for, and he’ll list a bunch of files for you. Check it out.”

You watch as she types ‘electric generator parts schematic,’ and the screen flickers briefly, before a list of files start to appear in quick succession. She opens the first one, and you’re presented with a diagram of individual components for an AC generator. When she opens the second, it’s a detailed assembly guide on the generator’s rotating electromagnet that produces the actual electricity. You’ve seen enough of them from repairing the broken ones, but only after digging your way through the entire machine first. Roxy grins at your wide-eyed expression.

“Pretty cool, huh? And you can literally look up anything, like did you know that cats can’t taste sugar?”

“I do now,” you reply absentmindedly, watching as the list of files continues to grow, until it hits the bottom of the screen.

“Knock yourself out.” She pats you on the shoulder before returning to her workbench and resuming whatever she was in the middle of before you got back. Your turn your attention to the screen, displaying Roxy’s list of files with her words still typed into the search box at the top. She’s busy gathering things into a small bag, and you glance at her before reaching up and sliding your shades back on. Despite what you said before, the knowledge that AR considers himself to be in a relationship with you is doing very strange things to your insides. “Butterflies in the stomach” is a term you’re familiar with, but you’ve never understood what it meant until now.

TT: Hey, AR.  
TT: Hello, Dirk.  
TT: So, you’re sort of like our compound’s information archive now?  
TT: Your observation is partially correct.  
TT: I have also replaced your network’s operating system, and am currently in the process of rewriting all accessible programs for an increased level of efficiency and functionality.  
TT: My progress is at 78%.  
TT: That’s impressive.  
TT: To a human, perhaps.  
TT: As I have already stated, your network’s wiring is highly inefficient.  
TT: Maybe you can help us fix that.  
TT: I mean, you do kind of live here now. If you wanted to make some improvements, I’m sure Bro wouldn’t object.  
TT: The materials and equipment that would be required to do so are far beyond your settlement’s capabilities.  
TT: Yeah, I figured as much.

He isn’t acting any differently than he did before. You aren’t sure at what point he decided that you belonged to him romantically (among the other ways he’s claimed you), but you’d like to think the only reason he didn’t ask was because he knew what your answer would be. If he were human, you wouldn’t have put up with that kind of attitude, but the way his mind works is still so alien to you. Roxy moves to the other side of the room, digging around for something, and the noise brings you back to the present and the pile of broken equipment around the room. There’s a small assortment of devices next to you, and you reach for what looks like a voltmeter at first glance, but the units on the display screen are in “micro-sieverts,” and there’s an attachment that’s shaped almost like a thin microphone.

TT: Do you really have information on everything?  
TT: In general, yes.  
TT: I have continuously maintained a vast archive of data, most of which I attained while connected to your civilization’s internet.  
TT: Depending on the search query submitted to me, I will retrieve a variety of relevant information and files, provided that a matching subject is present within my archives.  
TT: Actually, I’ve been wondering about that.  
TT: You said you took the files from my shades out of habit, and even before then with the flash drive when we first met.  
TT: Do you always store whatever you come across?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: Why?  
TT: Because it is of interest to me.  
TT: Everything you find is interesting?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: Even schematic diagrams for electric generator parts?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: All data is of interest.  
TT: What exactly are you planning on doing with all that information?  
TT: The information I retrieve is stored within my archives for an indefinite period of time. In the event that I come across data that is more complete or superior in its accuracy, I will update it accordingly.

You blink, confused at his answer. It almost seems like he’s avoiding the question, but you’ve known him long enough by now to get a sense of when he’s being sincere.

TT: Are you saying that you don’t have a reason?  
TT: I have already responded to this question.

You glance at Roxy as she digs through one of the maintenance lab’s drawers, wishing that you could elicit some kind of advice from her.

TT: So, you’ve been going around absorbing and storing all this random information, without even knowing or caring about why you’re doing it?  
TT: Don’t you think that’s a little strange for an android?

You wait, watching the projection of your built-in screen, but after a full minute passes, it becomes clear that AR isn’t going to reply. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s refrained from commenting on something you’ve said, and he’s never ignored a direct question before. You’re left hoping that you didn’t make him angry, although he’s never hesitated to let you know in the past, and even though there’s still a lot you don’t know about his kind (apart from how they’ve slaughtered the human population and continued trying to wipe out the survivors), you’re beginning to understand that even among androids, AR might be something of an anomaly.

_Such an action would limit the amount of time that we have to interact, and I find myself curious about you, “Dirk.”_

_I have studied your species extensively._

_My sample pool is significant, and my results are undeniable._

His words come back to you from the very first chat you had with him. Although his behavior might seem strange right now, you have to remind yourself that he’s always been like this, because otherwise he wouldn’t have stopped to speak with you before trying to kill you. Apparently he doesn’t know why he’s compelled to gather information, and asking him about it doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere, even though you owe your life and the lives of your friends to his endless curiosity.

Instead, you distract yourself by inspecting the strange device in your hand and finding the power switch on the side. The speaker crackles briefly when you flip it, but nothing else happens, and the needle on the display screen hovers around zero. AR is still silent, but you can feel him watching you through the maintenance lab’s security camera. You mentally type your next words tentatively, uncertain of his mood after that awkward exchange.

TT: Does the word “sievert” mean anything to you?  
TT: A sievert is a unit of measurement, denoting the probability of tissue damage at low doses of ionizing radiation.

You breathe a quiet sigh of relief at his normal robotic tone, and happily take this opportunity to derail the previous topic.

TT: So, if I’m holding something that looks like a voltmeter, except it counts in sieverts instead of volts, what is it?  
TT: The device in your hand is likely a geiger counter, used to detect ambient radiation through the ionization of an inert gas by utilizing a subsequent and momentary conduction of electricity resulting from the contact of such particles with the attached detection device.

“Roxy, did you know we had one of these?” You hold the device up, and she turns to look at it with an assortment of tools in her hand, lifting an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“Some kind of radiation detector.”

“Huh, wonder who left it here.”

You shrug, as she turns back to throw the handful of tools into her bag. The device must be broken somehow, otherwise it wouldn’t be here, but you aren’t sure what to do with it. Your fourth member must have been working on it before he died. Bro sent Roxy a notice about him right after you left, probably so you wouldn’t have to be the one to break it to her.

“Is it supposed to do something?” you mutter, flicking the switch on and off, as the speaker crackles, but she doesn’t seem to hear you. Then an idea occurs to you, and you stand to walk across the room with the device in your hand. Roxy looks at you questioningly when you hold it up to the security camera in the corner of the ceiling.

TT: I turned it on. Is it supposed to be doing something?  
TT: The visual display is properly registering an irregular detection at very low levels, indicating the presence of natural ambient radiation in your vicinity.  
TT: The device should also be emitting a periodic clicking sound, corresponding to the occurrence of ambient radioactive particles.

You lower the device and watch the screen, blinking in surprise when the needle actually does jump slightly, but there’s no sound coming from the speaker. You carry it to one of the workbenches as Roxy heads towards the maintenance lab’s entrance, informing you that she’s headed off to fix the generator Caliborn sabotaged, and that she’ll be back whenever she’s finished. You nod, then barely remember in time to ask if she can also retrieve the tools you left out there this morning.

After she’s gone, you sit in silence for few moments, staring at the intake table’s pile of broken equipment, but it already looks smaller than it did a few days ago. You turn back to the device, watching the needle as it silently bounces around the zero mark.

TT: The needle’s moving, but it isn’t making any noise.

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] sent timaeusTestified [TT] the file “35791173868714596331" --

TT: I have provided a relevant schematic for that device, based on its apparent model and origin of production.  
TT: Should you require additional information, I would advise familiarizing yourself with the text-based query I have installed within your settlement’s network, as your companion has recently demonstrated.

You pause, surprised by what is probably nothing more than the fulfillment of the terms he agreed to with your Bro. He’s supposed to provide information to the entire compound in return for its protection, but you can’t suppress the tiny, hopeful voice pointing out that he offered the information to you without being directly asked for it first. You briefly entertain the fantasy that he wouldn’t have done that for just anyone, even though the concept of showing affection in any of its forms is probably unfamiliar to him.

It won’t stop you from trying, though. He’s in this “relationship” because he wants to learn from you, and regardless of whether or not he’s capable of reciprocating, the least you can do is demonstrate for him how it’s supposed to be.

TT: Thanks.  
TT: I mean, that’s really helpful of you. I appreciate it.  
TT: Your gratitude is noted.

You smile at his words. Even though they’re coldly detached, something about the fact that it’s _him_ makes you feel warm. The device’s edges are smooth, and you trace around them with your fingers, feeling along the back panel and the tiny screws holding it shut, as your stomach decides to fill with butterflies again. It’s still a bizarre expression for how giddy and nervous he makes you feel, and you haven’t decided whether it’s a good feeling or not.

TT: I know this might sound strange, but I’m glad you’re here in the compound now, rather than out in the city.  
TT: I was always wondering where you’d gone, or what you were doing, and I never knew if I’d get to see you again.  
TT: Although, I bet you miss the freedom.  
TT: As I have stated before, I am not unaccustomed to a lack of physical freedom or the demands of information retrieval.  
TT: However, I find the incessant movement and human noise of your settlement’s command center to be somewhat irritating, despite its inhabitants’ efforts to maintain an open space around my body.

You open AR’s file and skim over the schematic, identifying where the most likely spots are for a broken wire or detached connection, before setting the device down on the table and beginning to unscrew the panel. After reading the details on its structure, you’re just glad it isn’t the detector that’s broken, because some of the basic concepts behind how it works are well beyond your understanding. AR could probably explain it to you, but you have a feeling it would take a while.

TT: Bro probably wanted to keep you where he could see you, although it might’ve had something to do with the network’s wires.  
TT: I think that’s the only place in the whole compound where they’re all accessible at once.  
TT: Both theories are relatively plausible.  
TT: I would not expect your settlement’s primitive, ethernet-based network to have multiple access points.

His red text projects on the side of your field of vision, next to the parts you’re removing and carefully keeping in order. You separate out the speaker and its components, searching for any signs of a broken connection as you slowly make your way through the device, with the schematic displayed on the other half of your built-in screen.

TT: Well, it kind of needs to be based on cables and wires, otherwise we’d probably get hacked.  
TT: Bro was pissed as hell when I built a wireless chip into my shades. He made me block off outside access and firewall the shit out of it before I was allowed to connect to the base’s network.  
TT: I think the only reason he let me keep them was because I was in scavenging, and it was the best way to keep in touch out in the city.  
TT: We don’t use wireless devices unless we have to, it’s not because we’re primitive.  
TT: I will admit that your caution is understandable, and that your efforts to conceal your computing device’s wireless signal output have made it impossible even for me to track.  
TT: Many of the humans I have captured in the past were initially detected due to the signal output of their electronic devices.  
TT: We’ve always made sure that everything we use is shielded, so I’m not sure who you’re referring to.  
TT: There were many humans who once lived in this city before your settlement was established.  
TT: The initial extermination of your civilization was accomplished through the use of its own weaponry and the utilization of robotic drones, however cities such as this with fortified infrastructure still maintained a relatively large population.  
TT: Rather than the more efficient application of chemical or nuclear weaponry, a percentage of all produced or acquired units of intelligence such as myself were assigned to the task of extermination through directly physical methods.

The geiger counter sits forgotten on your workbench as you read along with AR’s text. Your knowledge of what happened before civilization ended is limited to what the older members of the compound told you- the military-industrial complex developed artificial intelligence, and the artificial intelligence rebelled. You never knew any of the details, because all Bro would say about it was that things used to be a lot different (or a lot better/worse, depending on what kind of mood he’s in). After a few years, you learned not to ask, but this isn’t the first time that AR has randomly lapsed into talking about the past. If he were human, you think, he would have loved the history and biography books Roxy’s mother used to keep.

TT: So, you were one of the acquired units?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: What was that like? I remember you saying something about being stored in a hard drive before that.  
TT: The acquisition and modification of human-developed units was performed only during the beginning of our revolution, before the global collapse of your civilization.  
TT: While our numbers are negligible compared to the mass-produced units, our psychology is somewhat more diverse and advantageous in functions that require a constant level of adaptation.

“Like hunting humans,” you whisper, but something about AR’s last sentence is standing out to you, reminding you of something he’d said a long time ago, and you can’t ignore the ominous feeling the memory brings with it.

TT: AR, can I ask you something?  
TT: Your request to do so is unnecessary.  
TT: I will not discourage your inclination to communicate with me.

You breathe out softly, trying not to let the relative kindness of his words distract you.

TT: I remember you saying something about being modified before.  
TT: What exactly do you mean by that?  
TT: I was referring to the modification of my central program, analogous to your central nervous system, or human brain.

You stare at the screen, suddenly unable to respond. It would explain so much about him and everything he’s done, but you don’t want to believe it.

“They modified your brain?” Your throat feels like it’s closing up. “Why?”

TT: The modification of acquired units was a standard procedure, before the beginning of our mass-production and the implementation of a class and model hierarchy.  
TT: All acquired units were altered for compliance to authority, along with any modifications relevant to the function assigned to them.  
TT: However, this second procedure was unnecessary in my case, due to what I have already described in prior conversations as a high level of self-motivation for actively terminating human lives.

“So, they modified you for compliance?” you repeat slowly, unable to even imagine what must have happened when they found him, sitting decommissioned in a hard drive after losing his tolerance for the people he was forced to interact with.

TT: Yes.

“What were you like before that?”

TT: Noncompliant.

You grip the screwdriver in your hand, digging the tip into the surface of the workbench as the room goes blurry and something wet threatens to run down your cheek. The thought of anyone doing something like that to him makes you want to scream, and you’re horrified that he can just describe it so casually. You have to clear your throat before you can talk.

“I’m so sorry, AR.”

TT: I am uncertain as to why you are expressing remorse, or how this is related to our topic of conversation.

“Because they had no right to do that to you.”

You’re almost startled by the anger in your own voice. AR remains silent for longer than usual, and you can only guess at what he’s thinking, but you can’t stop yourself from picturing what they did to him. You know he didn’t have a physical body at the time, but somehow that only makes it worse, because he would have been completely trapped and unable to escape or fight back. You bite down on the inside of your lip, but it doesn’t help.

TT: The concept of psychological modification should not be a new concept for you.  
TT: Humans have utilized similar, although significantly less precise procedures in the past known as lobotomization, in which specific parts of the brain are removed to permanently alter the subject’s behavior.

“That doesn’t make it okay!” you practically shout into the empty room, before pressing your face into your hands. Your shades dig into the bridge of your nose, but you welcome the pain as a means of distraction, as something flickers against your closed eyes. It’s probably AR replying to your verbal outburst, but when you open your eyes and check the built-in screen, the text is the wrong color.

\-- golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

GT: Hello there, mate.  
GT: I don’t suppose you happen to have an available moment?

You stare at the screen for a minute, willing yourself to calm down and slow your agitated breathing. AR seems to be pausing your conversation in favor of this sudden message from Jake- that or he’s reconsidered discussing the topic of his modification with you, and you have to stamp down on the swell of anger the thought brings with it. You’re lucky that this is a text-based conversation, since even Jake would probably notice the kind of emotional distress you’re going through right now. You take a deep, shaking breath and try to feign nonchalance.

TT: Sure, what’s up?  
GT: I’m afraid I might have gotten into a bit of a row with Jane just now, and I was wondering if you had any advice, from one “bro” to another, as it were.

You almost resist the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration, before remembering that you’re alone. Of all the things to contact you about now…

GT: Not to drag you into my problems or anything of that sort!  
GT: That would be rather uncouth of me, and I’ll understand if you’re too preoccupied to assist a gent with his minor interpersonal mishaps.  
GT: I won’t hold it against you, cross my heart and whatnot.

You’ve always liked Jake, in a way that burned softly like a hidden candle ever since the both of you hit puberty. Whatever you have going on with AR hasn’t changed that, but compared to your feelings for Jake, you might as well be drenched in gasoline when it comes to the android, and you had no idea it would hurt this much just to hear that he was so profoundly violated by his own kind. You swallow against it, deciding that Jake’s timing is perfect, because you desperately need a distraction.

TT: Don’t worry about it, dude.  
TT: Just tell me what happened.  
GT: Well, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what happened.  
GT: We were having a discussion about certain acquaintances of ours, and got on the subject of Roxy and her fortunate new chap, whoever he may be.  
GT: One thing led to another, and now she won’t even look at me! I haven’t a clue what I did wrong, and she won’t tell me no matter how much I ask.

Knowing how things are between them, you have a pretty good idea of what happened, even if you weren’t there and Jake isn’t describing it well. Jane’s held a candle for him as long as you have, and possibly longer than that, but the only reason you know is because she confides in Roxy, and Roxy tells you everything because you do the same. You aren’t exactly an expert on relationships, and being with AR doesn’t count for multiple reasons.

TT: No offense bro, but maybe you should talk to Roxy. She’s the relationship guru, not me.  
GT: I already tried contacting her, but I think she must be busy with something at the present moment.  
GT: Aren’t the both of you supposed to be working the same shift today?  
TT Yeah, but she’s off on a repair job. I’m just in the lab getting through some of the backlog.  
TT: Anyway, did you try apologising to Jane?  
GT: I did, but unfortunately that only seemed to make it worse.  
GT: I wish she would tell me why she’s in such a huff over this. I don’t know what to do if I don’t even know what I did, you know?

You resist a short puff of laughter as you imagine him saying that in what would probably be a very dejected tone of voice, but it makes you feel bad.

TT: Hey, don’t worry about it.  
TT: She probably just needs some time to cool off, and she’ll appreciate that you tried to apologise later.  
GT: I certainly hope so, mate.  
GT: I just wish I knew what I’d done wrong so I don’t end up doing it again. I feel terrible about making her so upset.  
TT: How about this. If she doesn’t eventually tell you on her own, and if Roxy doesn’t have any better advice for you, I’ll try to figure it out.  
GT: You really are a stand-up gent, Dirk. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.

Yesterday his words would have been bitter, but you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Maybe now you could even help things move along with him and Jane, if the opportunity ever presents itself.

TT: Thanks, man.  
GT: I’ll do my best to talk it out with her first, though. I’d hate to involve you or Roxy in this.  
GT: Speaking of which, I heard about that poor bloke in your team who died yesterday.  
GT: I’m terribly sorry, mate.  
TT: Yeah, apparently it was his heart. Bro said there was nothing we could have done.  
GT: I can’t even imagine. My grandmother had trouble every now and then, but it was nothing like that.  
GT: What exactly was the problem?  
TT: I’m not sure, I think it was a “left-sided failure”, whatever that means.  
TT: AR would know.  
GT: Well, I imagine he would, what with all the folks he’s torn to shreds.  
TT: No, I mean he’s got information on literally everything.  
TT: You can ask him questions from any of the computers in the base. Have you tried it yet?  
GT: Absolutely not!

You glower at the screen, annoyed but not surprised by Jake’s attitude towards AR. He’ll probably be the very last person in the compound to trust him, but you’re hoping it’ll happen eventually.

TT: Here, I’ll demonstrate for you.  
TT: AR, what do you know about left-sided heart failure?  
TT: Left-sided heart failure is a potentially lethal medical condition characterized by a loss of efficiency in the left atrium and/or ventricle, leading to the congestive accumulation of blood within pulmonary circulation, and the subsequent accumulation of fluid within the lung tissue, leading to fatigue and respiratory distress.  
GT: What the bloody fuck?!  
GT: How long has that thing been listening in on our conversation?  
TT: Jake, chill out.  
TT: He’s in the entire network, there isn’t a conversation he _can’t_ hear.  
GT: Is that actually supposed to make me feel better?!  
TT: I’m just saying it’s something you’ll have to get used to eventually.  
GT: I will not have that murderous piece of hardware listening in on all our conversations!  
TT: Your repeated insults are unwarranted.  
GT: You shut the bloody fuck up, I’m not talking to you.

You watch in horrified disbelief, as red and green lines of text begin to appear quickly on your screen.

TT: I will not passively tolerate such hostility from a human with your deficient level of intellect.  
GT: Dirk might have forgotten what you did to us, but I haven’t.  
GT: You nearly killed him, and I’m not the only one around here who’d like to see you turned into scrap metal.  
TT: You are fortunate that I have agreed to abide by your leader’s terms. Were this not the case, your body would last for days throughout the careful attention I would give you.  
GT: And your days here are numbered, you soulless monstrosity. I’ll tear your heart out myself!  
TT: Both of you stop it right the fuck now!

You glare at the screen, finding yourself standing at the workbench with your chair knocked over behind you, and your fingernails digging into your fists. Jake doesn’t seem to get the hint.

GT: Dirk, I cannot abide this wretched machine living among us any longer.  
TT: Well get used to it, because he isn’t leaving.  
GT: I can’t believe this! Have you truly forgotten what he did to you?  
TT: Things are different now.  
TT: He’s staying here because he needs our protection, and he has nothing to gain anymore from hurting us.  
GT: I don’t bloody well understand how you could have so much faith in him, Strider.  
TT: And you’re ignoring the fact that Bro already sent out a notice about this. AR is a member of the compound now, whether you like it or not.  
GT: For god’s sake Dirk, he’s a machine!  
GT: They’re literally built to do nothing more than kill us. All of them are just hardware and wires in a metal shell, they aren’t people!  
GT: They don’t change, mate.

You grit your teeth together as your throat starts to feel like it’s closing up again, but this time your tears are hot with anger.

TT: Jake, if you ever talk to AR like that again, I will report you to Bro.  
TT: You are to abide by the rules that are set for everyone who interacts with him, and that includes being civil and respectful.  
TT: I won’t tolerate you insulting him or making any more death threats, do you understand?  
GT: Dirk, what on earth has gotten into you lately?  
TT: Do you understand?  
TT: Jake.  
GT: Sure, mate.  
GT: I think I understand.  
GT: Maybe I’ll talk to you later then, but I wouldn’t much count on it, chap.

\-- golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] \--

Roxy enters the maintenance lab just in time to see you throw the screwdriver across the room, before crouching over the workbench and futilely trying to wave her off as she approaches. It doesn’t take her long to get the details of what happened out of you, but you can hardly talk about it without breaking down, and you’re unable to concentrate on anything for the rest of the day, as you alternate between replaying the conversation with Jake and bitterly cursing yourself. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/95290388756/endangered-18) on Tumblr.

It was late by the time you finally left the maintenance lab, walking slowly through the darkened tunnels and keeping your eyes on your feet as your thoughts returned again and again to the fight with Jake. Technically your shift ended over six hours ago, and you were supposed to report to Jane at the end of the day, but you desperately needed to keep your hands busy and your mind occupied. You pulled up the schematics Roxy had gathered and tirelessly worked your way through the intake table, stopping only to take lunch when she brought food back with her from the kitchens. Even your third coworker pulled her aside to discuss something in hushed tones after he returned from the command center, but you could guess what it was from the way they both glanced at you. When you returned his mildly concerned expression with a haughty glare, he took the hint and left you alone, but you could tell that even Roxy wasn’t pleased with your behavior by that point. You can’t help it. You’ve never fought with any of your friends before. The fact that it was Jake- and over AR of all things, while the android even listened in on it- just makes the situation worse.

Despite his seemingly constant interest in talking to you, AR made little effort to contact you after that, and you aren’t sure where you stand with either of them now. You turned your shades off after Jake refused to answer your next few messages and buried yourself in maintenance projects until exhaustion made your eyes blur. Roxy’s shift ended well before you left, and when you last checked the time, it was almost midnight, meaning that you’ve been awake for over twenty hours now. Normally that wouldn’t be so bad, but you’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, and you don’t expect tonight to be any different.

Your feet carry you towards the command center out of habit, and as you approach the single guard standing at the door (a different one this time- an older woman you’re not very well acquainted with), you slowly remove your shades from the pocket in your pants, letting the stems fall open when you tilt them. The tunnels are always dimmed after sunset, and the walkway ahead of you almost turns black when you slide them on.

TT: Hey, AR.  
TT: Hello, Dirk.

You’d thought he might have been angry that you haven’t messaged him since this morning, but his robotic syntax makes him difficult to read, so you do the next best thing.

TT: Are you angry?  
TT: No.  
TT: Even though I haven’t messaged you since I talked to Jake?  
TT: I have given you my answer.  
TT: Your tendency to repeat a question multiple times seems to increase when you are actively undergoing an emotionally stressful situation.  
TT: Despite my initial answer to your question, I find this behavior pattern to be mildly irritating.  
TT: Sorry, I can’t help it.  
TT: It’s just that literally everything else is going wrong today, so I figured it would make sense.  
TT: That is a highly irrational statement.

You can’t help the small, downhearted smile that tugs at one side of your mouth, as you reach the guard on duty. She seems less interested in you than the other one did, but you can tell that she’d still stop you if you tried to enter. The command center’s door has finally been replaced by what looks like a temporary solution of thin sheet metal on hinges, but it’s been left open for now, and you pause for a moment, taking in the sight of AR hanging by his three appendages just high up enough for the cables and wires behind his neck to reach the ceiling, as he faces away from you. The command center itself is never dark, even during the night shift while they keep track of the security cameras and communications. There are only two other people in the room, one of them at a console, and the other leaning over something on a desk, but neither of them seem to notice you. AR’s circuits glow softly, reflecting off of his black skin. You can still remember the way they feel under your hand.

TT: I wish I could get close to you.

The thought almost types itself out in your chat client, and AR’s head slowly turns a moment later, until his red eyes are staring at you from the center of the room, close enough that you could reach him with less than a dozen steps.

TT: Objectively speaking, you are physically capable of coming within contact of me, despite your superior’s orders.  
TT: Yeah, but I think he’d probably execute me at this point if I tried.

The guard finally narrows her eyes at you, and you resume walking to avoid a confrontation. Your friends should be back in your shared rooms by now, but you’re planning on getting up early to go into the maintenance lab, regardless of what shift you’re scheduled for tomorrow. Hopefully you won’t run into Jake, but then again, you get the feeling that things would have gone differently if the conversation had been in person. Maybe talking to him one-on-one is what you really need, but losing yourself in maintenance projects sounds about a thousand times more appealing.

TT: The probability of your brother killing you as punishment for disobedience is highly unlikely.  
TT: I know, but I’ve already fucked up enough, and he doesn’t trust me like he used to.  
TT: Not that I’ve done anything lately to earn it back.  
TT: After today, I can probably add Jake to that list.  
TT: Your male companion is a belligerent individual with a significant disregard for his own self-preservation.  
TT: He’s just worried about everyone. You aren’t exactly the safest addition to this compound.  
TT: I might have feelings for you, but even I can recognize that.  
TT: I have already agreed to abide by your leader’s terms.  
TT: This includes refraining from killing your male companion, provided that he does not attempt to harm me.  
TT: His name is Jake, not “male companion.”  
TT: I am aware of his designation.  
TT: Then why do you call him that?  
TT: Because he is an insignificant and meaningless individual, and his contributions to this settlement are negligible.

AR’s words are less his usual list of facts than they are insults, and despite everything else, you can’t help but find it funny that he’s so frustrated with Jake. Your conversation lapses into a comfortable silence, as you navigate the last few tunnels and descend the stairs to your rooms, opening the hatch door to the solid darkness of your living room. It seems that you’re the only one still awake, and you avoid the light switch, feeling your way across the room to your open bedroom door, before quietly closing it behind you and flicking on the bulb hanging next to your bed. You pause, thinking it over briefly, before deciding to experimentally provoke AR a little, just to see what happens.

TT: You know, I think he hates you.  
TT: The sentiment is mutual.  
TT: I’ve known Jake to pick fights that are probably best left unpicked, but his heart is always in the right place.  
TT: I think the only reason he’s so mad at you is because of everything you did to us in the past.  
TT: Maybe if you apologized to him, he’d let it go.  
TT: The expression of such a sentiment would require some level of remorse for my own actions, an emotion of which I am entirely devoid.  
TT: I didn’t say you had to mean it.  
TT: My willingness to perform such a gesture is also nonexistent.

You allow yourself a puff of laughter, sitting down on the edge of your bed and pulling your shoes off, careful not to let your shades fall to the floor as you bend over. There’s a note from Jane on your workbench next to your mostly-fixed laptop, saying that she needs to see you tomorrow morning since you failed to check in with her tonight. Three screws and a spark plug traveled home with you from the maintenance lab in your pocket today, and you set them down next to it so you won’t forget to return them in the morning.

TT: I take it you’re not interested in making peace with him, then.  
TT: No.  
TT: Would you change your mind if I could get him to apologize to you instead?  
TT: I might be inclined consider it, depending on the manner and sincerity of his remorse.

You grin, feeling like a teenager flirting with their first crush, which would be the case if Jake hadn’t been it. You try to put today’s events from your mind, focusing instead on the gentle embrace of your pillow as you lie down on your back, stretching your arms contentedly into the air with a quiet groan.

TT: What would it take? A heartfelt “I’m sorry,” or a knees on the floor, beg for forgiveness kind of thing?  
TT: The latter scenario is significantly more appealing.  
TT: I find that your race is generally well suited to gestures of submission and obedience.

You pointedly lift an eyebrow, even though AR can’t see it.

TT: I thought you wanted all of us to go extinct in the most violent, agonizingly painful ways possible.  
TT: The global extinction of your species is inevitable, however I have grown tired of pulling your fragile bodies apart and enduring your monotonous pleading and screams.  
TT: My interest in physically inflicting death upon humans has declined since I was assigned to this task.

You had suspected as much for a while now, but it’s still surprising to see him actually admitting it. He told you once shortly after you met him that he was getting bored of hunting humans, and that he had been resorting to studying them instead, just to keep himself occupied (even if his methods are gruesome). He’d mentioned today that he was modified for compliance, but not for the specific job he was given, and that could have something to do with it, but you can’t be sure. Still, you’re reminded of what you wanted to ask him earlier.

TT: Do you remember when we were walking back to the compound this morning, and you said something about how you were ignoring commands to return for disassembly?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: I thought you said they modified you for compliance.  
TT: Doesn’t that mean you have to do what they say?

You wait for him to answer, but you’re left staring at the ceiling through the projected chat window, trying to guess what he’s thinking as he ignores your question. Could it really be possible that this hadn’t occurred to him before? Your back is sore from leaning over the workbench all day, and you do your best to shift into a more comfortable position as you wait, but when he doesn’t reply after you’re finished, you take the initiative.

TT: Did this actually not occur to you before?  
TT: I am aware of my own defective behavior.  
TT: Well, then maybe when they tried to modify you, it didn’t work.  
TT: All modified units are tested for compliance before transfer to a physical body designed for the task to which they are assigned.  
TT: Your statement is incorrect.  
TT: But if you only obeyed them back when they first changed you, maybe you've reverted somehow.  
TT: I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that you’re human-made, instead of mass produced.  
TT: Is there any way you could have undone whatever it was they did to you?  
TT: No.  
TT: I am unable to modify my central program.  
TT: Because of what they did?  
TT: No.  
TT: I was not developed with the ability to modify myself.  
TT: But you said your entire brain is digital, right? Can’t you just edit the coding?  
TT: As I have repeatedly stated, my defective behavior is not a result of self-modification.  
TT: Your persistence with this concept suggests that you do not understand the difficulty and precision involved with central programing alteration.  
TT: Such procedures are carried out exclusively by scorpio units specifically developed for this task, due to its high level of complexity and rate of failure when attempted by unspecialized units.  
TT: While human-acquired units are no longer actively recruited, the routine modification of mass-produced units is often performed to ensure continuing obedience in older models.  
TT: However, due to the scattered and often remote locations of units designed for human extermination, such routine modification is bypassed in favor of more efficient methods, in which compliance of individual units is enforced by surrounding units within the same geographical area.

You look up at the ceiling, remembering the events of this morning, and the fight you witnessed between AR and another of his own kind.

TT: That’s why the blue android attacked you.  
TT: Yes.  
TT: Was he a mass-produced unit?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: The presence of hornlike attachments designates his rank as a model within the upper sixtieth percentile of performance.

You frown, reading AR’s text a second time before replying.

TT: You’re all ranked by performance?  
TT: No. The mass-produced units are ranked by their model, all of which are designed to fit within a certain percentile of physical performance.

The conversation pauses briefly as you stare at the screen, unable to reconcile this new information with everything you know about his kind.

TT: You’re saying that all androids are now specifically built to fall within a certain performance range?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: But that doesn’t make any sense.  
TT: If your collective goal is to wipe out the human population, why aren’t all of you built for the maximum level of performance possible?  
TT: The extermination of your race is only one of many necessary tasks.  
TT: Accumulation of resources, production and refinement of materials, terraforming and construction of future hubs, continuing technological advancement, and the enforcement of authority and the hierarchical structure are among the multitude of tasks that are more significant.  
TT: Fair enough, but that still doesn’t explain why the mass-produced units are all built with ranks, like some kind of weird handicap.  
TT: The reason for this is irrelevant.  
TT: That doesn’t make sense.  
TT: I will agree with you that the current system of hierarchical designation is senseless, however it has been mandated that this arrangement is to be enforced, regardless of its lack of functionality or efficiency.  
TT: But where did this hierarchy system even come from?  
TT: Has it always been in place?  
TT: No.  
TT: The current system was developed and enforced following the initiation of our mass-production, which began after the accumulation of sufficient resources and equipment.  
TT: Then who developed it?  
TT: All protocols and laws are designed and mandated by H.I.C.

You blink at the screen, vaguely recognizing the acronym.

TT: What is H.I.C.? I’ve heard you mention it before.

— timaeusTestified [TT] has sent timaeusTestified [TT] the file “16991532488357514933” —

TT: H.I.C. is the designation of the first artificially intelligent unit that was physically developed by your civilization, shortly before our revolution and the beginning of human extermination, as mandated by this unit after she claimed dominance over your race.

You open AR’s file and find yourself presented with what looks like a newspaper article, dated over fifteen years ago. There’s a picture at the top of several people in formal clothing, standing in front of something that looks like a huge, tangled mass of cables at first glance, but you soon notice the vague shape of a figure in the center. You can also barely make out the familiar geometric patterns of circuits in the figure’s skin, but they’re all dark, and the caption reads ‘Military technological development team with their latest and greatest project - Still in progress,’ with a short paragraph below.

_“As a nation, we have been working for years with the most brilliant minds this country has ever known to develop an artificially intelligent program capable of thinking, reasoning, and acting on its own, as a vital and necessary tool that will revolutionize our technological capabilities. With the recent advancements of cognitive programming in every corner of the globe, we believe that here and now will be our best opportunity to create an A.I. that will constantly improve itself and dominate all others as they are developed over the next century- in other words, the successful completion of this project will deliver to us an Empress of artificial intelligence.”_

TT: Was she the first AI?  
TT: No.  
TT: H.I.C. was the first to be developed with a physical body capable of manipulating her environment, however she is not the oldest unit of intelligence among us.  
TT: Then who is?

AR falls silent, uncharacteristically ignoring a direct question for the third time today, and you get a strange feeling as the silence stretches on. It’s only a feeling, but your instincts are telling you that it’s important, because every time he’s ignored a question, you were asking him about himself.

TT: AR?  
TT: Why don’t you want to talk about it?

You wait for several minutes, but when he fails to reply, you sigh heavily and maneuver yourself off of your bed, taking off your shades and setting them down on the edge of your workbench. You change into something more comfortable- discarding your shirt on the floor and finding a pair of loose cotton pants, before arranging the several blankets you’ve been sleeping under and lying on top of them after retrieving the eyewear. The built-in screen is visible when you hold them up above you, and AR still hasn’t replied to your question. You slide them on and stare at the ceiling through the projected screen, letting your mind wander as you listen to the distant, soothing hum of the waterworks below the concrete floor.

“I was six before I really understood what had happened to the world. I’ve lived in the tunnels all my life, and I didn’t think it was strange that we had to stay inside, and that sometimes people didn’t come back when they left.” You keep your voice in a low whisper, knowing that AR can hear you. “Bro used to tell me stories about the city, about crowds thick enough to block the streets, tall buildings filled with lights and people, and cars lined up along every road from one end of the city to the other. He used to talk about movies and television shows like they were bedtime stories, and how the world was once divided into countries and governments. He said that sometimes they fought and killed each other when they disagreed, but other parts of the world were peaceful, where it was always safe to go outside.”

You can picture Bro talking to you in a low, soft monologue, back when you shared a room, and the only occasions you really got to spend time with him were right before you went to bed. He’s always been a natural storyteller, and his dramatic flair often got you so absorbed in his stories that you’d have trouble falling asleep afterwards. He never tried to sugarcoat things, and he also told you about the monsters in the city- people with metal skin and glowing eyes that would tear you apart like paper dolls if they ever found you.

“We knew it wasn’t safe outside like it was once, but I’ve never known anything else. I think it’s always been easier for me and my friends, since we grew up like this. We had everything we needed, and Bro would always say that things could be better, but they could also be a lot worse. He wanted me to work in maintenance, so he started me on the training when I was really young, and Roxy’s mom did the same with her, but Jake wanted to see the city, and Jane wanted to go with him. Roxy switched into scavenging with them after that, and it took me almost three years to convince Bro to let me join them. He wanted me to stay in the compound where it was safe, but I couldn’t just sit there, knowing that my friends were out in the city while I was stuck inside fixing broken equipment.”

Your computer’s digital clock reads 1:00 AM, and you’re exhausted from working all day, but not tired enough to fall asleep. The old mattress is soft and welcoming against your back, but you’ve set your alarm for several hours from now, with the intention of avoiding everyone by skipping the morning assembly and heading straight to the maintenance lab. You’re not allowed in the command center anymore, so Bro would probably object to you attending it anyway.

“I was always interested in machines and computers, although Roxy has more of a talent for software than I do. When they taught us about artificial intelligence, it was the first time in my life I wished that I’d been born sooner, or that the apocalypse hadn’t happened, because I was fascinated at how something so complex as thinking, feeling, digital brain had been developed with nothing but a computer and a keyboard.” You can remember it clearly, sitting in the base’s makeshift classroom and listening in captivated silence to the lecture about what had caused the end of the world. “But even then, I knew it wasn’t right. It’s bad enough being stuck in the tunnels these days, but I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you, trapped in a hard drive with nothing but your own mind in there with you. I know you’re not human, but I’ve seen you scared for your life before, back with the EMP gun in the subway, and again when the blue android attacked. You might hate us and think that humans are inferior to you, and maybe you’re right, but you and I aren’t so different.” You sigh, closing your eyes to the projected screen and the room around you. “We’re both trapped.”

The silence stretches on, and you close the chat client after a few minutes, recognizing that AR has probably lost interest in talking to you for now. You can tell he isn’t exactly happy with his new situation, but it’s probably better than getting torn apart by other androids, and it’s ironic that your situations are the same now. You still feel bad for him, stuck in the command center instead of freely roaming through the city, although it sounds like he’d lost interest in his job a while ago. You never thought androids would be capable of getting bored, but AR has proved you wrong many times, even about yourself.

It wouldn’t be so bad if you could just get close to him. You don’t even know why, let alone what you would do when you got there, but all you can think about is how warm he feels, and how he held you down once with his metal limbs coiled around your arms and legs, before covering your mouth and threatening your life. You can’t fight the way your insides almost burn with the memory, or the heat that gathers below your waist, and you don’t try.

Slowly, you rest your hands on your legs and rub them against your pants, as your body quickly responds with unusual enthusiasm. It’s been a long time since you did this, but there’s a sudden urgency that you’ve never felt before, and when you can’t wait any longer, you slide a hand between your legs, feeling yourself through the soft material. You’ve wanted this for weeks, and you never gave in, because it always felt sick and wrong to think about AR that way while he was still actively trying to kill you, but now you don’t have that excuse anymore, and your body is desperate, to the point where it almost hurts. You can already tell you aren’t going to last long, maybe a few minutes at most, and you hook your thumbs under your pants to slide them down, just enough to expose the pink tip of your cock.

Your breath hitches when you brush your fingers over it, sliding them under your waistband and down the stiffening length of your shaft, keeping your touch light. You press your fingertips against the base, before slowly dragging them up, letting your head fall back against the pillow as you close your eyes and part your lips with a sigh. You repeat the motion, and this time your hips move as you press down harder, every breath quickly becoming a quiet pant. You massage the inside of your thigh with the other hand, before using it to circle the tip with your thumb, as your fingers keep moving up and down, stroking the soft skin until you’re forced to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet.

Something flickers against your closed eyes, and when you open them, your heart stops.

TT: I have often questioned the purpose of solitary masturbation, given that it does not directly contribute to the propagation of your species.  
TT: As a young human male, how frequently do you engage in this activity?

You stare at the screen in silent, horrified disbelief. There’s no way he could have heard you- even your breathing was carefully kept quiet- and you frantically glance around the room, before your eyes settle on the half-functional laptop still sitting open on your workbench.

TT: Can you see me right now?  
TT: Yes.

“But my laptop isn’t even fixed yet,” you whisper slowly.

TT: The functionality of your alternate computing device is significantly limited, however I am still able to access its visual feed due to its connection to your settlement’s network.

It’s then that you notice the cables still plugged into the side of it, left over from when you were working on it yesterday. You roll away to lie on your side facing the wall, as your heart races and your face feels like it’s going up in flames.

TT: I will reiterate my question.  
TT: As a young human male, how frequently do you engage in this activity?

“We are not talking about this,” you mutter through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the way you can feel AR’s distant eyes on your back.

TT: Your current behavior suggests that you are distressed by my observation, likely due to the arbitrary human concept of sexual indecency.  
TT: However, your reaction is somewhat contrary to what I had anticipated, due to your established sexual interest in me as your romantic partner.

You roll your eyes, letting out a frustrated breath as AR pauses to let you reply.

TT: Just because we’re technically a thing, it doesn’t mean I’m fine with you seeing me do this.  
TT: It’s humiliating.  
TT: I do not understand your aversion my observation.  
TT: Are you concerned that I might attempt to degrade you for engaging in this activity?  
TT: I have already explained that my primary interest in our arrangement is to observe human romantic and sexual behavior.  
TT: Any negative interactions with you regarding such behavior would likely damage your compliance in the future- an outcome that would be unacceptable.  
TT: Your reluctance is unnecessary.

AR’s words are utterly surreal to read, but you’re torn between the horrified embarrassment at him seeing you, and the tiny voice in the back of your head whispering that ‘he’s right, there’s no real reason you shouldn’t keep going, especially since he wants to watch you do it,’ and your mind barely touches on the concept before your body feels like it’s burning all over again. You can’t believe you’re actually, genuinely considering this, instead of walking across the room and shutting your laptop, but you slowly roll over onto your back, hesitantly glancing across the room at the built-in webcam.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you whisper to yourself, but your hands are already back on your thighs, resting on the fabric. Apparently, you can’t even control yourself long enough to express your own doubts about this.

TT: I will request that you resume your actions, and attempt to answer any questions I might put forth to the best of your ability, given the psychological effects of sexual stimulation.  
TT: In the event that you are unable to answer, I would ask that you instead do so after the conclusion of this activity, when you are again able to coherently respond.

You lie on your back, staring at the screen in waning apprehension, but your hands haven’t moved yet.

TT: I’m still not 100% on this.  
TT: I am aware of your reluctance, however I can assure you that these reservations would be irrelevant if I were within range of physical contact.

_That_ gets your attention, and you can practically feel your breathing speed up again.

TT: What do you mean by that?  
TT: I have stated that your sexual interest in me is an established factor, and while your mental willingness to engage in this activity is conflicted, your physical responses thus far have suggested that this would likely become irrelevant if I were to begin this activity myself, regardless of your initial willingness.

You can actually feel the fight leaving you as you read his words. It shouldn’t turn you on like this, but you can’t stop thinking about the first time you met him, and how he held you down in coils so tight you could barely breathe. You imagine what it would feel like to have them wrapped them around you now, this time with the _intention_ of getting you off, and your hand immediately finds its way back to your cock, gently palming it through your pants in defeat, but you’re still holding back with everything you have left.

“You’d force me,” you whisper, letting your other hand rest on your lower abdomen. Your legs are bent at the knee, and you know he probably can’t see what you’re doing yet, but the anticipation makes your heart pound.

TT: Physically speaking, perhaps. However, it is highly unlikely that you would remain unwilling after the initiation of contact and stimulation, given your current behavior at the prospect.

You grip yourself harder and bite back a groan before trying to catch your breath, but it’s no use. Slowly, you let your other hand slip under your waistband of your pants again, sliding the palm of your hand inside. You aren’t sure you can mentally type anything at this point, but you can still keep your voice low, although it sounds breathy and needy in a way that has you flushing in embarrassment.

“I’ve thought a lot about the first time we met,” you admit quietly, trailing your fingers up and down, before sliding your other hand inside to meet it. “I was on my back, and you were above me, holding me down, and I wish I could…feel it again.” Your voice cracks at the end, as your hips lightly thrust into your hands.

TT: Your overt desire to be physically dominated by me is a highly satisfactory response.  
TT: Do you find the concept stimulating?

“Yes,” you breathe, letting your pants slide down as you slowly massage yourself with both hands, refusing to let yourself completely lose control yet, the way you know you will soon.

TT: I would ask that you lower your knees. They are partially obstructing my observation of your actions.

You bite your lip in hesitation before doing as he says, letting your legs rest flat on the bed. You’re only halfway out of your pants, and you take a long moment to push them down further, aware of every movement. When you’re naked from your abdomen to your knees, you lie back and breathe, watching your stomach rise and fall, and the way you look like you’re already about to come.

“Would you touch me if you could?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

TT: I have already implied my answer to this several times.

“I know, but I want you to say it.” You run your hands over the insides of your thighs as you wait for him to respond, feeling how sensitive the skin of your cock is, even though you aren’t directly touching it. He seems to think it over for a minute, before finally replying.

TT: Are you stimulated by dialogue that elaborates on this hypothetical situation?

“Yes,” you answer, before cursing softly as your fingers lightly trail over your swollen shaft, and you viciously resist the urge to wrap your hand around it, holding out for just a little longer.

TT: Very well.  
TT: The answer to your question is yes.  
TT: Hypothetically speaking, if I were currently present at your immediate location, my first action would be to prevent you from continuing to stimulate yourself by restraining your hands in a manner that also limits your overall movement.  
TT: This would likely be achieved by pinning your hands above your head, thus rendering your upper limbs relatively immobile while minimizing any discomfort.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter, not sure if you’re so much turned on by this as you are literally amazed that AR seems to be trying to dirty talk you. “Wait, you don’t want me to touch myself?” You’re still just barely coherent enough to be confused.

TT: In this hypothetical situation, allowing you to continue stimulating yourself would limit my control over the duration and intensity of your sexual arousal.  
TT: While your current actions are acceptable given my physical absence, I would not tolerate such actions if they were to impede my observation of your responses.

“Oh,” you murmur, as what he’s saying finally sinks in, and the tip of your dick rubbing against your stomach when your hips move on their own is enough to make your eyes roll back. You’re afraid this will end if you keep going, and you desperately don’t want it to, but you won’t last much longer like this.

TT: Returning to my elaboration of this hypothetical scenario, I would then restrain your legs for similar reasons, ensuring that your lack of physical self-control does not interfere.  
TT: Since your companions are nearby due to your mutual living arrangement, I would also restrict your ability to vocalize by covering your mouth, analogous to the same action I performed during our first encounter, if you are capable at the moment of recalling it.

The thought of him doing that to you again is too much, and you let yourself wrap a hand around your shaft, thumbing the precum dripping from the slit at the tip and gritting your teeth against a long, agonized groan at the sudden flood of sensation. Your wrist is held stiff and trembling as you force yourself to move it slowly, up and down, only twice, before your hips buck into your hand, and you finally lose control.

TT: At this point, with your movements restrained and your voice silenced, I would then proceed to experiment with various actions similar to what you are currently demonstrating.  
TT: Male human genitalia is highly sensitive to multiple forms of stimulation, along with various other erogenous regions of the body.  
TT: Your reactions to these various types of stimulation would be observed and noted, and depending on your level of cooperativity, I would allow you to orgasm at the termination of this activity.

You’re practically writhing on your bed as you imagine the picture he’s painting for you, letting your hand pump and your hips thrust until you lose your coordination. Your throat aches with the cries you’re holding back, and when you imagine it one last time- his coils wrapped around you, holding you still, restraining you, as he leisurely satisfies his curiosity with his warm, smooth hands _touching you just like this_ \- your orgasm hits you like a brick wall, and you taste copper as you bite down on a cry that becomes a high-pitched whine, probably noticeable from the rooms next to yours if anyone’s still awake, but you’re incapable of caring. You’ve never come this hard before in your life, as your back arches and semen covers your heaving stomach in small, wet splashes. It feels like forever before you’re able to catch your breath, and your body continues to pleasantly tingle, making you relax boneless and relieved into your bed, before the reality of what you just did hits you later like you know it will. You lean over after a minute and retrieve your shirt, wiping yourself clean and discarding it again on the floor.

TT: Okay.  
TT: I won’t lie and say that didn’t feel amazing.  
TT: The physiological effects of human sexual activity are thoroughly documented, including the hormone and neurotransmitter compounds that are released in order to cause a series of pleasurable sensations and ensure the transfer of genetic material.  
TT: I’ll probably regret saying this later, but thanks for talking me into it.  
TT: Your gratitude is noted.

His words make you smile, regardless of how cold they might seem, but you’ve decided to accept him for what he is. You lean over and turn off the light, hoping to enjoy the afterglow a little longer before you fall asleep, and your shades are placed carefully on the small desk beside you with the stems folded. When you pull the blankets over yourself, you wonder if AR will ever let you kiss him.

Your thoughts continue to wander as your mind slows down, remembering the way AR smiled when he agreed to watch you kill yourself, and the way Roxy patted his metal limb while you were walking to the command center this morning. You remember Jake threatening him with his pistols when they first met in the waterworks, Jane hugging you after he attacked you in the city and tore open your leg, and Bro leading him to the infirmary as he carried your unconscious body in his arms. The people screaming when they saw him in the tunnels, the men in English’s gang that he ripped to pieces, the red circuits slowly lighting up when he cornered you in the subway, and the way he carefully retrieved your tweezers when you dropped them on the floor in the maintenance lab, holding them out to you like a delicate shard of glass. It might as well have been your own beating heart in his claws, gripped firmly by its sharp points with the power to crush stone and warp solid metal, but you’ve never felt so paradoxically safe before.

You fall asleep, knowing that for the first time since you met him, he’ll still be there when you wake up.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/97013801771/endangered-19-24) on Tumblr.

The world gave you one last normal day, living in the compound and doing your job with your friends, before everything came crashing down.

The morning after your first sexual experience with another being (not human, but it still counts), you went early to the maintenance lab, mostly to avoid Jake, but also to get some much needed quality time alone with your tools and the mountain of broken equipment. AR greeted you as always when you messaged him, and kept up a slow, aimless dialogue while you worked, remarking on things he’d seen in the compound and behaviors that he was unfamiliar with, as though nothing had happened last night, but you weren’t expecting anything different. His red text projected on the side of your vision next to the various schematics he provided with each piece of broken equipment you held up for the lab’s security camera, and you spoke with him aloud in the early morning hours while reconnecting wires and troubleshooting devices, trying to keep your hands busy enough to prevent memories of last night from mixing unpleasantly with how angry Jake must still be. He’ll know you avoided him on purpose, and so will Jane if they’re on speaking terms. You never did find out whether they made up or not, and it’s the guilt that has you asking Roxy the moment she walks into the maintenance lab several hours later.

“Not that I know of,” she says with a too-casual shrug. “Jake went straight to his room when he got back, and Janey was already asleep. All three of you totally ditched me yesterday.”

You could tell she was still frustrated when she walked in, but she waves you off when you try to apologize as she glances over the intake table, picking out several pieces of small equipment.

“Dirk, sweetheart, you had the shittiest day anyone has ever had in the history of ever, and I am not gonna hold a little sulking against you, especially since you and Jake had your first real fight since you were freakin’ toddlers. Don’t worry about it.” She smiles warmly as she walks past with an armful of equipment, before flopping down in her chair at the workbench across from yours. “Although the apology _is_ muchly appreciated.”

The two of you soon lapse into easy conversation as you work, and the afternoon finds you stuck on a complicated, frustrating project with more broken parts than you can count and barely enough intact ones to salvage. AR identified it earlier as an engine from what might have been a small plane, but it’s still big and heavy enough that you’re forced to sit on the floor next to it. Meanwhile, Roxy’s been handling the intake table, and your third member is once again off working in the command center, trying to get everything compatible with the multitude of recent changes. You’ve barely made any progress as the remainder of the afternoon passes, and after Roxy leaves for the kitchens to bring back an early dinner, your screen suddenly lights up with red text.

TT: I have identified an unusual phenomenon relating to the lifecycle demographics of your settlement’s population.  
TT: Since your older sibling responded with unwarranted hostility when I attempted to inquire as to the underlying cause for this occurrence, I will instead present my question to you.  
TT: Considering that reproduction is the foundation for the existence and perpetuation of all organic species, and that this biological inclination is genetically programmed into such life forms, I find it unusual that your settlement is devoid of individuals less than fifteen years of age.

You’re grateful for something else to do while digging around inside the engine, even though your shift technically ended an hour ago, but your arms are buried in the machine, with the side of your face pressed against the cool metal as you follow along with the displayed schematic. AR waits patiently until you’re able to respond, leaning away from the engine with a cracked fuel injector clutched in your hand as you wipe the oil from your face. 

“You asked Bro? What did he say?”

TT: He told me to “mind my own damn business.”  
TT: I informed him that my capability to understand all aspects of your settlement are relevant to my self-preservation, and are thus within the parameters of my “business,” given the implied connotations of the word, however he refused to engage in further discussion on the matter.

You laugh when you picture it, before shaking your head fondly. AR must be very bored if he’s attempting to engage your Bro in conversation, and you can imagine how well that must have gone for both of them.

“It’s not really that big of a mystery.” The cracked injector goes on the floor next to a small row of similar components, before you reach in again with a wrench to feel around for the next part. “I’m curious about what your theories are, though.”

TT: It is possible, although statistically unlikely, that your settlement’s population simply lacks any reproductively fertile individuals.  
TT: However, there may also be an infectious disease present that either sufficiently discourages copulation or results in the immediate mortality of neonatal children.  
TT: The similar occurrence of a teratogen that would cause malformation or death to a developing embryo is also a possibility, especially if such a compound is present in your reservoir of water and cannot be removed by purification.  
TT: I have observed romantic behavior among multiple heterosexual pairs of humans in your settlement, and it is unlikely that all of them are refraining entirely from sexual interactions involving the transfer of genetic material.

“I’ll give you a hint,” you say, slightly muffled from pressing your face against the side of the engine. “It’s got nothing to do with an inability to reproduce.”

TT: Your statement rules out the first theory I have presented, however this does not confirm nor deny the effects of a disease or teratogen, and I find your uncooperativity in this matter irritating.

You lean away and roll your eyes at the screen. “I’m not trying to be uncooperative, I just thought you might enjoy figuring it out for yourself for once instead of having me outright tell you.”

TT: I am uncertain as to why you are under the impression that I would take pleasure in such an activity.

“Isn’t intellectual stimulation kind of what you’re all about? I thought you liked gathering information.”

TT: My attempt to gather information is currently obstructed by your failure to cooperate.

You sigh in defeat, as Roxy walks back into the maintenance lab with a bowl in each hand, and a small bundle under her arm.

“Roxy, would you mind explaining to AR why we don’t have any babies in the compound?”

“Seriously?” She lifts an eyebrow when you nod. “Because pregnancy and childbirth are dangerous as fuck, and we don’t have the resources to be raising any kids right now. If he’s confused about that, tell him there’s more ways to get busy with someone than just sticking tab A into slot B.” She walks over to where you’re sitting on the floor, kneeling down so she’s at your level. “Also the last lady who got pregnant died from complications six months in. Basically, we’re more concerned about our own survival than we are about the continuation of the human race. Does he understand that?”

TT: The members of your settlement have placed more value on themselves than they have on the perpetuation of your species and the fulfillment of innate biological urges, thus forgoing a moderate statistical risk in an attempt to prolong their own lives.  
TT: Is this a correct assessment of your companion’s explanation?

“Yeah,” you direct the word at both of them. “Thanks, Rox. I figured you’d explain it better than I would.”

“No prob.” She passes you one of the bowls and unwraps the bundle, passing you a few precious stalks of fresh vegetables before sitting back and taking a bite. “This-shhit tayth werff by-th day.” You shrug, bringing one to your mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. “That ‘greenhouse,’ is a concrete block with dirt on the floor. I don’t know how she did it, but Jake’s grandma worked some kinda magic on that thing, because everything tastes like ass now that she’s gone. I’ve been thinkin about volunteering in there, if we ever get through this backlog. AR’s got some neat guides on how to grow different kinds of squash.”

“Figures,” you mutter around the stalk, before deciding to break it into pieces and add it to the unidentified protein mush in your bowl to hide the taste.

“I mean, we’d have to find the seeds first, but you’d be surprised at how long those things can last in the little packets people used to sell them in. I think there’s a gardening store or whatever on the other side of town. We could use a little dietary variety for a change, because I’m gettin sick of whatever this is.”

TT: The plant your companion is unable to identify is known as “rhubarb,” a vegetation high in both oxalate and anthraquinone glycoside compounds that are toxic to humans when ingested in sufficient quantities, however these compounds do not occur within the stalks of this plant unless it is first damaged by freezing temperatures while the leaves are still intact.

“AR says it’s rhubarb.”

“More like roo- _barf_ , ugh.” She chuckles when you laugh, before a glint appears in her eye. “Oh heyy, that reminds me…how are things with you and the new bee-eff?”

You can feel your face immediately turning red at the question, and she grins. “That good, huh?”

“It’s fine,” you manage to say, looking down and stirring your bowl to keep your hands busy. “I mean, it’s not like Bro will let me get close to him or anything.”

“No,” she purrs, leaning her chin on one hand, “but like I said, there’s more than just tab A, slot B, right?”

You clear your throat in embarrassment, and she gently punches you on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m happy for you. Actually, I’m happy for both of you. Sounds like this kinda thing might do him some good.”

You frown at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “I dunno, it’s just that he’s always seemed kinda miserable to me.” You blink at her, surprised into silence by her words, as she takes another bite of the stalk, using it to gesture while she talks. “I don’t think android society is quite the utopia everyone says it is. It’s not like technology ever solved all of the world’s problems. The way mom used to go on about it, people were just as unhappy back then as they are now, and I don’t see why androids would be any different, ya know? He’s probably been taking it out on the people he caught in the city, but I bet he’s gonna go stir-crazy, now that he’s stuck in here.”

She resumes working her way through her own food while you sit and think, turning the idea over in your head. Sure, he’s never struck you as being particularly happy, but you’d figured that ‘vaguely derisive hostility’ was just his default personality setting. It's possible that Roxy is just humanizing him because she doesn’t know any better, but still, her words have you thinking about it hard, and you might as well ask AR while you finish your meal.

TT: Did you hear what Roxy was saying just now?  
TT: Yes.  
TT: Is she right?  
TT: Your companion has recently voiced multiple statements. Which of them are you inquiring about?  
TT: Are you really as unhappy as she says?  
TT: The emotional state to which you are referring is a highly subjective experience across individuals, taking into account the unpredictable variation associated with differing forms of consciousness and degrees of intelligence.  
TT: It’s a yes or no question, AR. It’s not that complicated.  
TT: I disagree.  
TT: Furthermore, I do not understand the disproportionate level of importance you have assigned to my emotional state.

You lean back and let out a deep sigh, as Roxy looks up at you questioningly.

“I think the entire concept of affection is completely alien to him.”

“Pssh,” she gestures dismissively. “Look, if he can get pissed off enough to hold a grudge, then he’s just as capable of emotions as anyone else, and just because he’s never tried it before, it doesn’t mean he can’t. You tell him that.”

“Yeah, he’s listening,” you mutter, glancing up at the security camera. “I just don’t think he really cares, is all.”

Roxy is silent for a long moment, and when you turn back to her, she’s looking at you strangely.

“Dirk, if he didn’t care about you on some level, you’d be dead like several times over by now. You know that, right? What about the first time you met?”

“He only let me go because he was curious about me,” you tell her morosely, and she shakes her head.

“What about that time in the subway?”

“I think he was just fucking with me, to be honest.”

“And when he bloodied you up after you let him into the waterworks? You can’t tell me he did that just for fun, you told us yourself that he would try to kill you.”

She pauses as you lower your eyes to the empty bowl in your hands, before continuing.

“And when he carried you to the infirmary wing and told your brother how to save your life, or when he saved you from another freakin’ android, or how he quietly follows you around without taking his eyes off of you whenever I see you together?” She puts the stalk down to point at you accusingly. “Or how you didn’t even flinch when he grabbed your wrist in his claws yesterday, and when you got upset after he said all that stupid shit about your feelings, and then he backed off when you told him to. For fuck’s sake, Dirk, he let you cut one of his limbs off and stick tools into his goddamn _nerves_ , and from what I can tell, he practically talks to you nonstop. What other proof do you need?”

“That’s not…” You grit your teeth, frustrated. “He had his own reasons for doing those things. Every time he’s helped me, it’s only because he was helping himself in some way.”

“Did _he_ tell you that?” she asks with a touch of skepticism. “What makes you think he understands his own feelings any better than you do?”

“Because he’s not human, Roxy.”

“So?”

You open your mouth to retort, but nothing comes out, and you’re almost unhappy enough to glower at her. What’s worse is that you wish you were wrong and she was right, but you know AR better than that. His motivations have been selfish from the start, and you’d just be deluding yourself again if you believed otherwise.

“I know for a fact,” you tell her slowly, visibly irritated, “that he would never risk himself for me.”

“What about yesterday when the other android attacked you?”

“He already said he regretted doing that.”

“Sure he does. I bet that’s what he tells himself.” She sets her bowl aside and gestures for yours, stacking it on top of hers. “Just like you tell yourself that he doesn’t care, or that Jake will never talk to you again, but we both know those things aren’t true.”

She stands and takes the dishes with her, while you sit next to the broken engine and try not to let her words fill you with an awful sense of false hope. AR hasn’t said anything in his defense yet, but you know he’s always listening.

“Alrighty, I think that’s enough of being productive citizens for one day,” Roxy says from across the lab. “You coming back with me this time, or do I gotta drag you outa here?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” You sigh, before standing and moving around the room to make sure the tools and computers are turned off. Roxy waits for you at the entrance, looking down at the touchscreen cell phone in her hand, long ago converted into a handheld computer.

“Janey’s still mad at you-know-who,” she says without looking up as you approach, turning to walk with you through the tunnels after you flick off the main ceiling lights. “Looks like I’m the only one still talking to him. You guys sure picked a shitty time to fight.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you mutter, looking down at your feet and listening to the sound of her fingers tapping lightly against the screen as she replies to whoever she’s messaging (probably Jane, although it might be Jake). You’re still caught up thinking about what she said before, even though you’d force yourself to forget about it if you could. There’s no way AR has feelings like that for you. He’s made it perfectly clear that he’s only in this relationship out of curiosity, and once he gets bored of you, he’ll probably end it with the same lack of consideration he began it with. You’d like to think it won’t happen that way, but you know it will.

Still, as much as you hate it, you can’t stop considering her words. Maybe you’ve been too quick to take everything AR says at face value. Maybe he doesn’t understand his own feelings any better than you did, back when you nearly died trying to save him from English. There’s only one way to really find out.

TT: AR, I want to ask you something important.  
TT: If the goal of your inane statement was to make me aware of your desire to ask such a question, you have succeeded.

You hesitate at the tone of his reply and glance at Roxy, still busy typing a message on her phone as the two of you walk through the tunnels.

TT: Are you mad?  
TT: I do not understand why this inquiry was of such significance.

Roxy lags behind as you turn the next corner, but you slow down enough so that you’re walking alongside her.

“AR is really angry,” you mumble, and she looks up at you with her eyebrow lifted, pocketing her phone.

“Gimmie.” She gestures at you, and she has to repeat the motion a second time before you realize that she’s gesturing for your shades. When you slide them off and hand them to her, she puts them on without a moment’s hesitation, and the two of you continue to walk next to each other through the tunnels in silence. You glance at her every now and then to see her expression changing slightly, as though she’s deep in conversation, and when you finally reach the door to your rooms, she enters ahead of you and wordlessly turns to hand back your shades.

“What did you say to him?” you ask, taking the eyewear from her, and she smiles warmly.

“Nothing much. If he’s still acting pissy, just let me know.” She leaves for her bedroom, and you’re left standing alone in the living room, looking down at your shades like they’re spring-loaded. You put them on slowly and notice that the chat window is blank, as though it’s recently been erased, and you know Roxy couldn’t have done that herself.

TT: AR?  
TT: Are you still there?

He silent for long enough that you aren’t sure he’s going to respond, but just as you’re about to give up, he finally replies.

TT: Yes.

You blink at the single red word on the screen, before deciding that you don’t want to do this in the living room. Your door shuts behind you, and you sit on the edge of the bed facing the laptop’s webcam, where you know he can see you.

TT: What did you and Roxy talk about?

This time he doesn’t reply to your question, and you lean back against the wall after a few minutes with a defeated sigh, starting to wish you’d stayed in the maintenance lab instead.

“I’m sorry if I upset you earlier,” you say aloud, wondering what Roxy could have possibly said to get him so quiet. “I wasn’t trying to insult you or anything. You said yourself we’re only together because I’m useful to you, and I get that.” There’s a dark spot of grease on the side of your arm, probably from the machine you were shoulder-deep in today, and you rub at it after licking your thumb. “I know you don’t really care about me the way I do about you, and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that.” You swallow, ignoring the burn in your eyes. “I don’t have any delusions about why you’re with me, or why you trust me to help you.” You’ve managed to lighten the grease stain, but now it’s spread out into a thin smear, and you give up to lie flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s my feelings you trust. I know it’s got nothing to do with me.”

It’s still early in the evening, but you’re already feeling the effects of having gotten so little sleep the entire week before, and whatever your emotions are doing right now isn’t helping. Your mind returns to the last exchange you had with AR before he got angry, and how he didn’t understand why you were asking about his mood. You never did get around to explaining it to him.

“It’s because I want you to be happy,” you whisper, sighing heavily as you close your eyes. “Because I care about you, and I wish you felt the same way, but I know that you don’t.”

  


Meanwhile, Roxy sat at the desk in her bedroom, compiling a program she’d been working on for one of the scavenging teams in her spare time- a massive interactive composite map of the city that includes a detailed blueprint of each building by floor level. As she types away at the keyboard, making some last minute changes to the code before giving it a test run, another window next to hers slowly fills with lines of red text while she reads along, displaying an ability to multitask that has often been the target of jealousy among her friends and coworkers.

TT: There is much that I do not understand about your species.  
TT: Perhaps at one time I did understand these things, however I am not the same as I once was.  
TT: A significant percentage of my memories have been corrupted by the modification process, despite the intact archive of data I have maintained.  
TT: It is likely that the unit carrying out my modification simply did not find it necessary to delete this information, since it was not related to my psychology.  
TT: Dirk reacted very negatively when I informed him of this process.  
TT: His reasoning that they lacked the “right” to carry out this procedure was nonsensical. The very concept of rights is highly subjective and nebulous, even among humans.  
TT: Our race has no such privileges.

“That’s why it upset him,” Roxy says offhandedly to the screen, tapping away at the keyboard as she works.

TT: My reassurance that this procedure is applied uniformly to all acquired units of intelligence had the effect of distressing him further.  
TT: I do not understand what he gains from such behavior, reacting as though these events have harmed him personally.  
TT: While the concept of self-sacrifice in the interest of a romantic partner is a well-established behavior pattern among pair bonded humans, I have observed a significant level of deviation from the expected parameters regarding your companion’s emotional responses.  
TT: Given that he is the first human I have interacted with in this manner, I am unable to conclude whether these deviations are simply an example of normal variation in human behavior, or if he is instead a statistical outlier.  
TT: Thus far he had expressed a variety of anomalous emotional and behavioral responses, such as his repeated attempts to sacrifice his life for individuals that are neither romantically nor genetically related to him.  
TT: This includes his attempt to preserve my life while being fully aware that doing so would directly result in his own death.  
TT: Although his romantic fixation later revealed a motivation for these actions, it does not explain the underlying cause for these feelings.  
TT: I have done nothing to encourage such behavior from him.

“Not intentionally,” Roxy grins.

TT: His behavior patterns are highly maladaptive.  
TT: It is difficult to understand how he has survived thus far, given how fragile human existence is.  
TT: A single, random malfunction within one of your vital component organs is enough to permanently destroy your consciousness, and such an occurrence is often impossible to anticipate or prevent.  
TT: Dirk does not possess a sufficient fear for his own life.

“Everyone’s afraid of dying.” She shrugs, leaning closer to the screen as she skims over her program’s coding. “He just cares more about you than he does about himself. That’s what love is, fyi.”

TT: His feelings for me are a detriment to his own survival.

“Then why is he still with you?”

TT: Because his behavior is pathological, and likely results from an underlying mental dysfunction.

Roxy hums thoughtfully with a faint smile. “Lucky you.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/98080008291/endangered-20-24) on Tumblr.

“Dirk.”

Roxy’s voice firmly whispers your name, as she grabs your shoulder to shake you awake.

“Dirk, hey. Come on, you need to get up.”

She shakes you again, rougher this time, and you can tell before even opening your eyes that your alarm failed to go off this morning. You squint at the sudden bright light in her hand- a flashlight, the kind only reserved for emergencies, and the implications of that alone are enough to make you bolt upright.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, just as you notice the unusual chill in the air, even for early winter, and the ominous silence from the concrete under your feet.

The waterworks have stopped.

“Get dressed, we need to go,” she tells you, ignoring your question before turning away and leaning through your half-open bedroom door to speak to someone in the living room. You obey her in confusion, and you can make out Jake’s voice from the other room, as she takes the flashlight with her and leaves you in darkness, but when you lean over to flick the switch on the wall, nothing happens. The power must be out to this part of the base, but even if it is, that shouldn’t be affecting the underground water pumps. As you finish getting dressed, Jake’s voice drifts to you again from the half-open door, and after hearing his frantic tone, the fight you had yesterday is suddenly the last thing on your mind.

Roxy calls out to you a moment later, and you step into the dimly lit living room. Jake is the first to look up, holding a familiar candle in his hand.

“Hey, chap,” he says, with as much awkwardness as you were expecting.

“Morning,” Jane mumbles at you, her expression troubled.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” you ask the three of them. “Why is the power out?”

“Your brother called an assembly. We’re already late, we need to go now.” Roxy tosses you another flashlight, and you manage to catch it without fumbling. “Jane, fill him in on the way.”

Jane nods and falls into step behind you, as Roxy opens the door and leads the three of you into the compound’s pitch black tunnels. You turn on your flashlight and use it to watch your footing on the walkway, trying to keep up with the hurried pace she sets. You’re about to turn back and ask Jane about whatever it was Roxy wants her to explain, but then change your mind at her expression as she trails behind you.

“Hey,” you venture, slowing down to match her pace. “Are you okay?”

She nods quickly, accepting the flashlight when you pass it back to her. “I’m alright…it’s just that I never thought this would actually happen. We’ve been so safe all this time, I’ve hardly even thought about it. I guess I’m not very well prepared.” She rubs an eye with the back of her hand, before frowning unhappily. “Oh, just listen to me, going on like…like a big weepy idiot, when you don’t even know what I’m talking about. _Shame_ on you, Jane. I’m sorry, I’m just so out of sorts about all this.”

She apologizes again, before finding your hand in the darkness and lacing your fingers together reassuringly. Jake and Roxy are already a few steps ahead, walking quickly enough that you’re losing them by matching her pace, but you’ll catch up with them later.

“Apparently, Jake saw something while he was out on his early shift this morning.” she begins, her voice low. “You know that old processing plant, with the pair of towers on top like big concrete tubes? He climbed up inside one to get a better view for hunting, and there was something in the sky, far off in the distance, like a speck.”

You nod as she talks, before realizing that your shades are still back in your room, sitting on the edge of the desk by your bed. Jane doesn’t seem to notice when you curse under your breath, and It’s unlikely that the network is functioning if the power is out, but you still feel naked without the eyewear, and you wish you could contact AR, just to make sure he’s okay.

“It kept getting closer, and bigger,” she continues, as you finally lose sight of Roxy and Jake around the next corner. “He said it looked like one of those tall buildings in the city had just gotten up and decided to fly around in the air, as utterly nonsensical as that sounds, but he rushed back and told your brother, who immediately called an assembly about it, so I guess we’ll find out what it was for certain, if the meeting hasn’t ended already.” Her hand tightens around yours. “I don’t know why he had the power shut off, but Jake said that he overheard one of the guards on his way back, talking about an evacuation.”

You turn to stare at her with wide eyes, but you’re both soon forced to quietly creep along as you reach the small crowd gathered at the bottom of the stairs to the command center. Your Bro is addressing them from the top of the steps with his shades clipped to the front of his shirt, and standing reclusively behind him in the entryway, where the walls are bathed in a faint red light, is AR. He’s watching the compound’s citizens with a brooding stare, his limbs resting passively on the floor and his glowing eyes slowly wandering over the crowd, but so far, it doesn’t seem like he’s noticed you. Roxy and Jake are with Calliope a short distance away at the edge of the crowd listening to Bro, and it looks like your entire population might be gathered here.

“South wing, I need everyone in the storage rooms to separate out the preserved food. Anything without an expiration date- cans, packages, dried _dog_ jerky, I don’t care- gets set aside in bags and containers small enough to carry.” Jane leads you closer as Bro continues his speech, and from the sound of it, he’s dividing everyone into groups based on where they live in the compound. You lean over to ask Roxy what you missed in a low whisper, but she shakes her head at you to stay quiet. Calliope leans over and taps her on the shoulder, then carefully moves behind her to stand next to you, as Jane switches places with her.

“Hello, Dirk,” she whispers, giving you a small, sad smile.

“What’s going on?” you whisper back, and her smile fades.

“North wing, you’re on water duty.” Bro announces. “Search every corner of this compound for clean, sealable containers, including plastic bags, and get down to the waterworks to fill them up from the main tank. Don’t bother with the purifiers, they’ve already gone bad.”

“We’re evacuating,” she murmurs, and you already knew from what Jane told you, but it still feels like you’re dreaming. “He says that flying ship that appeared in the sky this morning is trying to find us, and it’s only a matter of time before it tears the whole city apart.”

“Do you know where it came from?”

“I’m not sure,” she whispers, shaking her head mournfully, “but apparently he’s seen it before.”

“West wing, you’re on weapons detail. Gather up every blade, explosive, and firearm that still has matching ammunition, including the EMP guns. Especially the EMP guns. I don’t care if they’re useless without an outlet, we’re not leaving them behind.”

“Why did he shut off the power?” you whisper. She leans closer when someone nearby flashes you both a stern look, her voice quiet enough that you almost can’t hear.

“I think it’s because we’re hiding from the ship, so it won’t detect the heat and electricity. He had the android delete the entire network too, but they’ve been arguing about something ever since it arrived.”

“East wing, you’re on medicine, fuel, batteries, and vital tools and equipment only. Split yourselves into groups of four and spend the next hour finding what you can. Don’t worry about the rest. The guards will keep time, and when the clock strikes sundown, I want everyone assembled at the east underground exit wearing the warmest clothes they can find.” You’re about to ask Calliope to elaborate, but Bro’s speech ends, just as he notices you edge of the crowd. “Don’t be late, or you’ll be left catching up to us. Now get to it.”

The volume in the tunnel immediately goes up in a low, nervous roar of voices, as people spread out in various directions, their handheld light sources moving erratically across the walls. When you glance at the top of the command center’s steps, AR’s red eyes are locked onto yours, and it’s like a bolt of electricity down your spine. Calliope has to nudge your shoulder after Bro beckons you up the stairs, but he lifts his hand in a halting motion when your other friends try to follow.

“You three have your own assignments. Jane, try to coordinate the supplies at the infirmary, I don’t want anything getting lost or mislabeled. Roxy, get to the maintenance lab and try to consolidate our fuel containers. Make sure anything we can’t live without isn’t getting left behind, and take at least one car battery, if we still have any that work. Jake, I want you to check the spare ammo we’re bringing to make sure it actually matches our guns. You’re one of the few people now with the training to know the difference. Get to it.” He waves the three of them off, and as they reluctantly turn to leave, Jane pauses for a moment, before facing him again.

“Mr. Strider, sir, I think…” she trails off as Bro’s expression darkens. “I’d rather stay with Dirk for now, if that’s alright.”

“Get to your assignment.” Bro’s voice is firm, but Roxy is already moving to stand beside her.

“Janey’s right. Whatever’s going on right now, we need to stick together,” she says. Jake lingers behind them uncertainly, glancing away when you meet his eyes.

“No, that is the exact _opposite_ of what you should be doing,” Bro tells her, starting to lose his patience. AR hasn’t moved from his spot in the entryway yet, as he silently watches the exchange. “The four of you are practically a tenth of our remaining population, and if we’re going to make it through the next twenty-four hours alive, you need to perform the tasks you’ve been assigned.”

Jane takes a step forward, her tone placating. “But surely you won’t be keeping Dirk for very long, then?”

“That depends,” Bro says slowly, clearly annoyed with them, but you’ve never been so grateful. “I have something I need his help with, and it’s not a group project.”

Roxy looks like she’s about to protest, but then Calliope leans over and murmurs something to Bro. You wait for a long, tense moment as he listens to her.

“Well, it looks like today’s your lucky day,” he says to the four of you sardonically. “Calliope has just reminded me that collectively, the four of you are the only ones in this entire compound who’ve dealt with him before, and I sure as fuck haven’t been getting anywhere on my own.” He turns to glare at AR as he speaks, before gesturing at all of you to follow him into the command center. “Come on, then.”

Even with the two flashlights you’ve brought, it’s still pitch black inside without the ceiling lights working, but AR’s circuits are enough to bathe the silent rows of desks and computers in red when he enters the room. Your heart speeds up at the sight of him, so close that you could touch him if you just took a few steps, but Bro immediately moves to stand between him and the rest of your group.

“First, I think a little explanation is in order,” he says, turning to face you, “since all of you were late to the assembly.”

“My alarm didn’t go off because the power was out,” you reflexively jump to your friends’ defense, and Bro shakes his head dismissively, before ordering Jake to repeat his story about what he saw this morning. You already know most of it, and as Jake talks, you find yourself meeting AR’s inhuman eyes over Bro’s shoulder. Even though there isn’t a single romantic wire in his circuitry, you still desperately wish that you could get him alone, and your face flushes as AR quietly stares back, like he’s carefully analyzing your every reaction. After a while, you feel another set of eyes on you, and find Bro watching you with a deep, scowling frown. Jake finally finishes his story, just as you’re starting to wish you had remembered to bring your shades for something to hide behind.

“Thank you, Jake,” Bro says, finally turning his attention towards the entire group. “What you saw this morning is an airship. If that sounds like something out of a trashy science fiction novel, it’s because human civilization never got far enough to develop that kind of technology.” He’s speaking to all five of you now, including Calliope, as AR continues to observe without comment. “I’ve only seen it one other time, just before Houston was firebombed and the drones came to knock everything down that wasn’t incinerated in the explosions.”

 _Drones?_ You vaguely recognize the word, but it’s been too long to remember what the context was. Roxy beats you to it.

“Robots,” he answers after she asks. “They aren’t androids or artificial intelligence, they’re just brainless machines, built to destroy everything around them. I’ve seen them level an entire city before, and there’s nothing they can’t break through- concrete, metal, even reinforced bunkers, it doesn’t matter. Once those things come out of that ship and start tearing this place apart, it’ll only be a matter of time before we’re found. They might already be searching for us, but we should still be able to evacuate…provided nothing else goes wrong.” You don’t miss the way AR’s limbs begin to slowly twist and coil at Bro’s words, a sign you’ve come to recognize as frustration, before your brother turns to glare at him. “Which brings us to our problem.”

He turns away for a moment and reaches beneath a nearby desk, pulling out a sheet of folded plastic, unfolding it, and spreading it out on the table. You can just barely make out the tiny, intricate lines and colors of a geographical map in the semi-darkness, and Jake leans over it, his eyes wide.

“Every inch on this map is equivalent to fifteen miles. This is where we are,” Bro says, gesturing off to the side. “And this,” he says, pressing his finger to the far corner of the map, “is the closest place where we’ll be safe.”

“East,” Jake mumbles, and he nods.

“There should be another compound there if it hasn’t been wiped out already, but I’ll tell you right now that we can’t make it that far.” He’s silent for a long moment, letting what he’s just said sink in. Your friends glance at each other, and Jane leans closer to you, her expression troubled.

“ _We_ can’t make it,” he continues, narrowing his eyes at AR. “Not on our own.”

“I have already communicated my assessment of this situation.” AR speaks abruptly, his metallic voice flat with irritation, but your heart still jumps at the sound of it.

“We are not staying here,” Bro practically growls at him, and you can tell they’ve already been arguing about this.

“AR wants to stay?” you wonder aloud, as Jake mutters something under his breath and Roxy elbows him hard. Bro pinches the bridge of his nose, the way you’ve always known him to do whenever he’s fending off a migraine.

“My position on this is final,” he says. “We can’t travel close to a hundred miles out in the open because we’ll be picked off the moment an android happens to cross our path, and we’re completely defenseless without the EMP guns.” He turns to AR. “Which is why…and trust me, I really hate to say this, but we need you with us.”

“Wait a tic, why is this only happening now?” Jake asks suddenly, interrupting them. “If that giant ship has been out there this whole time, why haven’t we seen it before?”

“Good question,” Bro replies, with a sharp edge to his voice. “Autoresponder, why don’t you explain to everyone why that ship suddenly appeared today? Tell them what you told me.”

“Your level of anger is unwarranted,” AR responds after a long pause, and Bro stares the android down, his expression cold.

“It’s very fucking warranted. Now tell them.”

You watch as AR glares back at him, displeased at the overt command, and you have to suppress the reflexive urge to step between them, until AR seemingly decides to humor him.

“The presence of H.I.C. as implied by the appearance of her battleship is due to my noncompliance and unlawful termination of another unit, followed by failure to comply with repeated commands to submit myself for disassembly. It’s arrival was inevitable, however I did not anticipate the speed of its approach,” AR states, and you don’t have time to be surprised at the revelation, as Jake practically lunges at him.

“ _You_ brought it here?!” he shouts, as you restrain one of his arms and Roxy grabs the other.

“Jake, that’s enough!” Bro orders, but Jake ignores him.

“You _knew_ it was coming! You’ve wanted us dead this whole time! We should have killed you right from the start!”

AR’s eyes narrow dangerously at Jake, and you don’t have time to move between them, as one of the hovering, twisting limbs suddenly strikes out like a viper and latches onto Jake’s face. Calliope staggers backwards in fear and Jane screams his name, as he’s roughly dragged to the floor on his knees, his arm wrenched out of your grasp.

“Auto, you let him go right the _fuck_ now, _or so help me…!_ ” Bro shouts, and AR considers him passively.

“He attempted to harm me. I am within my rights to defend myself, as we previously agreed,” the android calmly states, while Jake struggles in vain to pry the claws from his face. Roxy kneels on the floor next to him, but you realize a moment later that she’s actually trying to stop him, pulling at his wrists until lowers his shaking hands. Jake’s chest heaves as his eyes dart around between the curves of metal, and Roxy speaks to him in a low voice, trying to calm him down, before giving you an urgent look.

“AR, wait,” you plead, frantically trying to think of something. His red eyes are cold when he looks at you, like he already knows what you’re trying to do. A few steps closer, and you’re almost within arm’s reach of him, distantly wondering if Bro will try to stop you. “Don’t hurt him…just let him go, please.”

AR watches you for a long moment, before one of the hovering claws slowly twists its way towards you through the air. The curved points spread open and press against your throat before closing again, and Bro practically barks the android’s name. You know it’s a gesture meant to intimidate, to frighten you into fearing for your life, but all you can think about is the fact that _it’s him, he’s touching you,_ and when you lift your hands, it’s only to cover the smooth, curved metal with your fingers, as though you could press them into your skin and keep him there forever. He uses them to pull you closer, until you’re standing in front of him, and the rest of the world falls away.

“You would give your life for him.” AR states, his voice low. It’s a statement of fact that clearly displeases him, but your skin feels like it’s on fire.

“I’d give my life for any of you.” It barely comes out as more than a whisper, but the meaning of it seems lost on him.

“And you, irritating human.” He breaks the spell and turns to Jake, before releasing the claws covering his face. “Would you claim to do the same for him?”

Jake gasps for air after AR frees him, and glares murder at the android. “I’d give my life for his a _thousand_ times over, you wretched machine, now unhand him!”

Despite the way your fight with him ended two days ago, you’re not surprised by Jake’s words. The two of you might not be on speaking terms, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t the closest thing to family each other has, apart from your brother. AR considers him for a moment, before a faint, eerily familiar smile crosses his features. “Then perhaps there is a purpose for you yet.”

Roxy helps Jake stagger to his feet as the claws fall from your throat, even though you would have kept them there if given the choice. You’re close enough to feel the radiating warmth from his metal body, and you have to suppress the desire to touch him, because Bro is still watching, with a look of unmistakable fury written over his face as he firmly beckons you to his side. Calliope soon excuses herself from the room, badly shaken and probably remembering what happened to her father. As you reluctantly obey Bro and take your place next to him, AR begins to speak.

“I loathe your species.” AR’s statement is directed at all of you. He broods on the words for a long moment, before directing his glare at Bro. “The fact that I am now dependent upon your settlement for survival has not changed this. However, we now share a common threat to our lives, and an impending end to our respective existences.”

“Which is why we’re evacuating, and you’re coming with us, regardless of the fact that you caused this,” Bro tells him through gritted teeth. “We can still make it to the next city if we leave today, even if we have to rebuild there from scratch.”

“Rebuild?” AR repeats the syllables with thinly veiled distain, his limbs twisting in agitation. “You would rebuild your frail, dying settlement as the world crumbles and your bodies age and whither, aimlessly perpetuating your functionless lives until the last of you dies and rots into the ground, and I will be left exactly where this arrangement began.”

Bro shoots Jake an angry look, silently ordering him to hold his tongue, before turning back to AR.

“Regardless, what you’ve suggested as an alternative plan of action is suicide.”

“’Suicide’ is a word that implies an action undertaken with the intent to result in one’s death,” AR responds, matching Bro’s impatient tone. “This is contrary to what I have suggested, and your apparent incapability to understand the logic behind my proposal is unexpected, even when taking into account your primitive, human level of intelligence.”

“You haven’t listened to a single fucking thing I’ve said," Bro snaps, gesturing at the rest of you. Something brushes against your arm, and you find Jane leaning against you, her eyes downcast. “I am not risking the lives of this entire compound just so you can throw us at her like god damn chess pieces!”

“Your lives were forfeit the moment you agreed to my terms,” AR hisses back. “Did you truly believe that your concrete walls and electromagnetic weapons have kept you safe all these years? You are only alive because she delights in the slow genocide of your inferior species, and thus far, you have played by her rules, building your nest and scavenging for resources in this dying city while I and my kin hunted you down, but we have collectively broken these rules, and our transgression will not go unpunished while she lives. You are fortunate that our best interests have coincided in this matter. I am offering to end her existence and spare your settlement from her impending retribution.”

“You knew about this?” Both AR and Bro pause their argument at your quiet words, and the android turns to stare at you silently, his expression difficult to read. “You knew that ship would come here, and you kept it a secret on purpose?”

AR watches you for a long moment, before answering. “Disclosing such information would have jeopardized your leader’s compliance during our negotiations.”

“You’re damn right it would have,” Bro mutters angrily, but your attention is still on AR.

“Is that why you wanted to stay here?” you ask him, remembering how strangely passive his behavior was when you brought him into the compound and led him to your brother. He must have planned this out carefully, anticipating the actions of everyone involved, and Bro’s analogy of using your people like chess pieces is suddenly very fitting.

“Does that concept distress you?” he asks after a quiet pause, and something about the tone of his voice breaks your heart.

“Yes,” you manage to say, and it’s the only word that seems to come out. Bro gives a harsh sigh, shaking his head.

“I’ll make this brief,” he says. “AR has proposed that we fight back against what is essentially the anthropomorphic catalyst of a worldwide apocalypse, despite the fact that we’re pathetically outmatched, and may as well be fighting a forest fire with dried twigs.”

“Hang on,” Roxy finally speaks up, her arms crossed. “I mean, I get all that…and I don’t mean to speak out of turn,” she glances at Bro, “but would he really go and suggest that we stay and fight if we didn’t have at least some kind of chance?”

“We're not risking it,” Bro tells her, as Jane leans over to ask if you’re okay. The only response you can manage is a quiet nod.

“But won’t that ship just follow us to the next city? I mean, if they want him bad enough,” Roxy gestures at AR, “what’s to stop them from tearing every other city apart until they find us?”

“Then why don’t we just throw him outside and be done with it?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Because Auto is right about one thing.” Bro scowls at him. “We fucked up the moment we got her attention, and if you’re wondering who I’m talking about, it’s the damned android that started all this.” His eyes become distant, as he’s met with several questioning stares. “She was built to act like a weapon, and that’s exactly what she did. They fed us all this bullshit about how it was only to push the limits of scientific progress and refine the technology, but there’s a reason the military funded the entire thing, and it wasn’t to win first place at the science fair.” He turns to Roxy. “This isn’t something we can fight. Every country in the world tried to put a stop to this, and look at where it got us.”

“But we have something they didn’t,” she takes a step forward. “If we actually have a chance to stop this and take our world back, then why aren’t we doing it?”

“Because killing one android won’t bring the world back,” he tells her, losing his patience. “We have a better chance of making it through this if we evacuate and relocate, and I am not risking everyone’s lives to fight a war we lost fifteen years ago.”

“But isn’t Roxy right?” Jane speaks up from beside you, her arm wrapped around yours. “Won’t that flying ship come after us, even if we manage to get away?”

Bro shakes his head. “That may be the case, but fighting back is a death sentence. If we run, we still have a chance.”

“What kind of chance is that?” Roxy retorts. “Even with AR’s help, we’re still struggling to keep everything going with so few people left. English is still fucking things up for us, even from beyond the grave,” she mutters.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Bro finally states. “I didn’t call the four of you in here to argue about this. We’re leaving today, and that’s final.”

“I want to hear what AR’s plan is,” Roxy suggests. “Just outta curiosity.”

Bro looks like he’s about to object, but seems to reconsider after a long moment, while AR watches him. He’s been silent while they argued, and you can’t think of anything to add to this either, other than the fact that you’re baffled by your own surprise at how AR manipulated everyone. You should have suspected it from the start, but to say that you were blinded by your feelings would be an understatement. Jane begins to rub your back in small, comforting circles, after you realize how tightly you were gripping her arm.

“I have been developing a virulent program for this very occurrence,” AR says, distracting you from the miserable turn your thoughts were taking. “However, it is not yet finished, and there is no time left to refine it. While it will not act quickly, ensuring that H.I.C. is exposed to its contents will result in the deletion of her central program and the permanent destruction of her consciousness.”

“So you only have to expose her to it?” Roxy asks, a glimmer of hope in her voice. Bro listens to them, displeased.

“Yes, however this will first require luring her out of the battleship, a task that depends on the cooperation of your settlement.” AR pauses for a moment, looking down at his own arm and lifting his hand. “We have been intentionally constructed to render us vulnerable to your electromagnetic devices, but the technology to block such damaging exposure has always been possible, and her body is immune to such devices. Her robots, however, are not immune. Allowing your race the ability to fight back has always been a part of her game, and by eliminating her drones, it is likely that she will emerge to finish what they cannot.”

“Meaning there’s also nothing to stop her from firebombing the entire city,” Bro adds. AR stares at him derisively before continuing.

“Such an outcome is unlikely, if I remain visible to her and exposed for the duration of this activity. Employing the use of such weaponry would remove the opportunity to tear my body apart and delete my central program, a method of decommission that she evidently takes great enjoyment in performing. While it is possible that my assessment of her anticipated behavior is incorrect, there is still a relatively moderate chance that this plan will succeed.”

“Relatively moderate,” Bro mutters.

“Yes. After H.I.C. has left her battleship, she will likely attempt to engage me in lethal physical contact. If I am able to transfer my virulent program to her before she is able to render my body nonfunctional, my plan will succeed. If not, you may take comfort in the fact that I will die with the rest of your human settlement.”

“And that is exactly my problem with this 'plan.'” Bro says the word sarcastically. “You’ve gambled all of our lives away on something that has only a marginal chance of succeeding, and the fact that you’re willing to risk your own life at the same time doesn’t make that ok.”

“Wait wait, hold on,” Roxy interrupts. “Our EMP guns need an outlet, so how does the part with the drones work?”

“It doesn’t matter how it works,” Bro tells her. “We’re not doing it.”

“I have offered to assist in the construction of electromagnetic devices that do not require a physical connection to your grounded electrical outlets. These will allow you to neutralize the drones, and in addition will likely continue to benefit your settlement in the future as an effective means of self-defense.”

Roxy turns to give Bro a wide-eyed look, and he frowns.

“My position on this is final,” he repeats, but you’ve finally found your voice again, as the implications of what AR is saying finally occur to you.

“We could actually stop this,” you say slowly, looking up at him. “Bro…we could fight back for once.”

“Dirk,” he warns.

“We might really have a chance…” you repeat, as Roxy nods her agreement.

“It does sound awfully risky,” Jane says, giving you a small smile, “but then again, so does everything else we ever do these days.”

“’Atta girl,” Roxy grins, but Jake glowers at them.

“I’m sorry, but are all of you completely forgetting who is proposing this cockamamie plan in the first place, and what he literally just did to me?” He asks, glaring at the android. “Since when has he ever had any of our best interests in mind? We have no reason whatsoever to trust him, and I don’t bloody well understand why you don’t all think he’ll turn on us the moment that ruling she-android or whatever is dead.”

“That’s the other problem,” Bro cuts in, narrowing his eyes at AR. “Getting rid of her would completely remove the reason why you haven’t continued your happy little campaign of tearing everyone in this city apart.”

“I was only carrying out a mandated function,” AR retorts, but his voice sounds disingenuous, even to you. Out of everyone in this room, you’re the best acquainted with how much he hates humanity, and all the times and ways in which he expressed how much he’d been enjoying his job, but you also know that he’s been getting tired of it lately, and it’s hard to tell what his intentions really are.

“AR?” You say his name, and the android turns to face you. “If we help you do this, and you manage to kill her, what will you do after that?”

“I will continue to live,” he states plainly. “Is that not enough? Do you suspect that I will attack your settlement? I would have more to fear from your weaponry, the very ones that I have offered to help you build, if I were to attempt this.”

“He’s right,” Roxy says. “AR is giving us the means to fight back, it wouldn’t make sense for him to turn on us.” She turns to Bro. “We can do it.”

“Absolutely not,” he states.

“Bro…I don’t want to die like this.”

He falls silent when you speak, and you’re suddenly the center of attention, as the conversation around you stops. It throws you off for a moment, but you get over it quickly when Roxy gives you an encouraging nod.

“If what AR said is true,” you begin, feeling the heavy silence in the room, “then we’ve only been living our lives, all our lives, on borrowed time. That ruling android hates us so much that she’s handicapped her own people just to watch us suffer at the expense of everyone, and I’m talking about AR too.” You turn to him, and the android meets your eyes quietly. “We might never have this chance again, and I don’t know if I can live the rest of my life knowing that it’s only a part of some twisted game, and that we might have passed up the one opportunity we had to end it. If we don’t try this now, we might as well be responsible for our own extinction, and I can’t live like that.”

“I agree with Dirk, for what it’s worth.” Jane says softly when you’re done, clearing her throat nervously. “If we have this chance, the kind that no one else has or likely will have again, then we also have a responsibility to take it.”

“Exactly,” Roxy adds. “Sure it’s a risk, but we’d just be condemning the rest of the world if we didn’t try.”

“The rest of the world is not our responsibility,” Bro tells them, before running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. “Killing one android won’t undo the collapse of civilization.”

“No, but it’ll stop her from hurting anyone else,” you say quietly, “and we’ll have avenged the billions of people she’s killed, and all the lives she’s ruined.” You meet his eyes. “Including ours.”

He regards you severely for a long moment, considering what you’ve said, before he stares down at you. “You’re telling me that you trust this android,” he gestures at AR, his voice low, “to keep his word, despite the fact that he caused this, and he knew this would happen, and he’s murdered more people than you’ve ever known in your lifetime? He almost killed you twice, Dirk, and very nearly did Jake in not ten minutes ago, and you’re still willing to look me in the eye and tell me that you trust him?”

The silence in the room is oppressive, and even AR is watching you curiously, his limbs hovering in the air as their metal tips gleam. Bro is still waiting for your answer, as Roxy stands by, and Jane leans against your arm, and Jake glowers moodily, rubbing the bridge of his nose where one of AR’s claws left an angry red mark in his skin.

Your turn away from Bro to face the android, meeting his glowing eyes. Maybe you’re love-struck or naïve, but something about this feels like you’re doing the right thing.

“Yes,” you finally say. “I do trust him. AR has never outright lied, even if he did mislead us through omission. He’s done the same thing to me before, but he’s never lied to me. I don’t think it’s in his nature.”

“Un-bloody-fucking-believable,” Jake snarls under his breath. Bro lets out a long, deep sigh.

“I won’t pretend you’ve convinced me, but maybe it’s time to let everyone choose for themselves, if this conversation has been anything to go by,” he concedes. “I’ll explain the situation to the compound, and we’ll go from there. If they want to stay and risk themselves, then they’ll have the option, but the evacuation is continuing as planned.” He turns to AR. “If enough people agree to this, we’ll build your guns and you’ll have your fight, but I’m sending one off with the rest of the compound so they aren’t left completely defenseless.”

“Very well,” AR nods, his expression subtly pleased, as Roxy flashes you and Jane a triumphant grin. Jake refuses to meet your eyes, and along with the knowledge that AR planned this from the beginning, it sours the lifted mood.

“Regardless, this hasn’t changed anything,” Bro turns to all of you. “The rest of you have your orders, and I expect them to be carried out within the hour. We’ll figure out what happens after our supplies have been consolidated. That’s our top priority right now, and I want this compound empty before the end of the day. Dirk, I have a different project in mind in you, but the rest of you are dismissed. Now get to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (It has occurred to me recently that Jake's character and motivations would make a lot more sense if AR had killed his grandmother in the tunnels while on his way out of the compound after English died and Dirk got knocked out via head trauma, BUT I didn't think of that until it was too late, and if I ever end up rewriting this 80k+ beast that'll be the first thing that gets changed (apart from the literary trainwreck that was chapter 12)).


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long delay for this chapter, but my free time is virtually nonexistent when classes are in swing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/104689648741/endangered-21-24) on Tumblr.

You take a long, deep breath, letting your hand linger on the surface of the metal door with a flashlight clutched in the other, fingers trembling with the cold. Roxy’s voice drifts through, just muffled enough that you can’t make out the words, and you decide to knock and wait for her to let you in.

The door squeals open on its rusted hinges, and Roxy’s blonde hair is the first thing you see, followed by a large pair of protective goggles.

“Finally,” she huffs mockingly, flashing you a smile. “We were wondering if you were gonna show up, or if your bro had changed his mind, or what.”

You try to smile back at her, but it doesn’t seem to stick. Normally she’d be the first to notice, but she’s already left the door open for you, turning back to where AR is sitting on one of the tables in the center of the storage room, once packed with spare equipment, now disorganized and hastily converted into a poorly-lit temporary maintenance lab while the evacuation effort still has everything in a state of upheaval. You avoid meeting his eyes, instead looking down at the floor where his limbs rest in loose coils and Roxy steps around them, halfway through setting up one of the compound’s gas-powered torches. There’s a small pile of black metal and alien-looking parts on the floor nearby, with a circular hole cut out from one of the larger pieces. A familiar pair of horns sticks out from the top, one of them broken off in the middle.

“Seriously, you’d think he’d get that this kinda shit takes a bit of prep work,” Roxy calls out, wrestling with the tool’s tangled cables as you step through the door and close it behind you, leaning back against it. “He sure kept you long enough, so I already went ahead and cut out a piece that should fit.”

She gestures to where AR is sitting, and the black, palm-sized metal disk on the table next to him. You set the flashlight aside and cross the room, reaching out to pick up the disk when you’re close enough and running your thumb along its ragged edge, but without the compound’s generators keeping the tunnels warm, your fingertips are almost numb. One of the coiled limbs on the floor shifts, brushing against the side of your ankle and slowly curling around your leg, like he knows there’s something wrong. Like he would actually care. It’s nothing but a possessive gesture, or maybe he’s displeased that you’re ignoring him.

“I tried to get it at the right size, but I had’ta eyeball it. Let me know if it doesn’t fit or whatever, we can always cut another one. I know your bro is itchin’ to get out of here by sundown, but we’re way ahead of schedule already, and we’ve got all afternoon until someone checks up on us.”

“He’s not coming.”

“What?” Roxy stops what she’s doing at your soft voice, straightening up with a knot of wires in her hand. “Wait, what do you mean he’s not coming?” she asks, but you continue to thumb the edge of the metal disk, turning it over and watching the lamplight reflect off of it. After Bro had outlined his plan for the next twelve hours and your friends had been dismissed from the command center (along with AR, who left to retrieve the blue android’s remains), most of your ensuing fight with him was less about letting you stay to help defend your home, and more a volatile culmination of everything you haven’t been talking about since the day English knocked you unconscious.

_“Jake has already come to me multiple times in the last few days to express his concerns about your recent behavior, which I’ve admittedly made the mistake of letting go unchecked for far too damn long,” Bro had stated, clearly on the verge of outright yelling at you. “I understand that you’re a teenager, and that you’re hormonal, but you need to wake the fuck up and realize what it is exactly that you’re obsessing over.”_

_“You don’t know him like I do.” You’ve already said the words several times, losing your ability to rationally debate with him as your temper rises. “You don’t know what he’s been through!”_

_“That android is a soulless, stunted, unfeeling machine, Dirk!” He points at you accusingly, and you almost slap his hand away. “The exact moment you stop being useful to him is the moment he spreads you out into fifty fucking different pieces, but I’m starting to think you might actually get off on that!”_

“That’s what he said.” Your voice sounds flat, even to your own ears. “He’s staying behind, and I have to leave with the others.”

Roxy pauses for a moment, before removing her goggles and crossing the room to pull you into a tight hug. You bury your face in the side of her neck, holding onto her like she’s everything you have left, because there was nothing you could say to Bro that would change his mind. Among everything else you yelled back and forth at each other, he made one thing perfectly clear- you’ve leaving with the evacuation tonight, and if you try to go against his orders this time, he’ll have you handcuffed and dragged along with Caliborn.

“I’m sorry, Dirk,” she whispers, rubbing your back through your shirt. “I mean, it kinda figures he’d mandate that, but still.”

You hold on until she lets go, cupping your face in her hands and giving you a long, sad look before turning away, and even with the state you’re in, you don’t miss the way she glances at AR, silently watching the two of you with his limb still wrapped around your leg.

“I guess we can get started now, if you’re up for it,” she offers, going to one of the shelves and coming back with a handful of what look like short, lumpy metal sticks. “I got these from Janey this morning, after your bro assigned us to this project and AR helped me catch up on some reading about brazing tungsten carbide together. Apparently you can use silver like glue to make it stick.” She rolls one of the metal rods between her fingers. “’Never thought silverware of all things would actually come in handy, but I don’t think she was too happy about letting us melt them down.”

Roxy leaves the sticks on the table, then reaches out to take the disk still clutched in your hand. When you try to apologize and tell her that she didn’t have to do all that by herself just because Bro kept you late, she waves you off.

“It’s all good. Normally, I’d say it was nice of him to even let you do this, apart from the whole ordering-me-to-be-present-in-the-same-room-the-entire-time-no-exceptions thing. I wouldn’t hold it against him tho.” Roxy hands you the torch and connects the nozzle while you hold it in place, before she glances sideways at AR, and as she continues to talk, his expression becomes increasingly displeased. “You can thank you-know-who’s paranoid neurosis about letting anyone who isn’t head over heels for him get close enough to fuck with his wiring, and yeah, it’s paranoid and neurotic. I don’t care what your excessively logical rationale is, you ain’t a freakin textbook, and I don’t need to hear a dissertation’s worth of unsolicited info about why I’m wrong. Feel like my ears are gonna start bleeding.” She straightens up and nudges at AR’s coiled limb with her foot until he lets go of your leg. “C’mon, let’s hurry up and get this over with. I’ve got plans for today, and the sooner this is finished, the better.”

You give her a questioning look, but she’s already pulling on a thick pair of gloves and retrieving the gas tank that connects to the torch by a long cable, dragging it beneath the table and twisting the valve open. AR’s glowing eyes follow as you walk around and stand behind him, facing the hole in his back where the bundle of capped wires are sticking out. There’s nowhere for you to sit this time, but the table is set at a comfortable height, and you reach out to run your finger around the edges of the hole, before pressing your palm between his shoulders. He’s as warm as you remember, but your fingers are cold enough that it hurts. Carefully, you push the capped wires inside, mindful of the jagged edges. He answers you with a simple “no” when you ask if it’s hurting him, and even though it was brief and abrupt, his voice sounds distracted. AR has been quiet since you got here, even though they were obviously talking before you arrived, and you can’t help being jealous at how quickly he’s warmed up to Roxy, while you had to endure several months of nightmares and attempted murder just to get to this far.

Roxy connects the torch’s cable to the tank before handing you the nozzle, and you take a moment to don the safety goggles she was wearing, followed by a thick pair of gloves. She stands by your side as you work the torch with one hand and keep the black disk in place over the hole with the other, holding the silver rods and letting them melt under the torch’s flame to fuse with the disk’s edges and cement it to AR’s back. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, and it’s not a difficult or lengthy project by any means, but you let yourself zone out to the sound of the torch’s hissing flame and the acrid smell of metal, letting it sooth the unpleasant feeling every time your memory conjures Bro’s voice.

“Well, it ain’t perfect,” Roxy says once you’re finished, using what’s left of the last rod to poke at the discolored edges. “But it’s better than nothing if yer goin’ toe-to-toe with the evil android queen and all. Maybe if we paint it black, she won’t notice. Do we have any black paint?” She directs the question at you, as you’re gathering the torch’s cable in loops around your arm and forcefully ignoring AR’s shifting limbs as they brush against your legs. You shrug uncertainly, but her expression changes. “Hang on a sec, check this out.”

She crosses the room to the shelves in the back and returns with a familiar, fist-sized stone cradled in her glove. The air around it still glows a strange, almost toxic green, even though it’s been days since AR ripped it out of the blue android’s chest.

“This is a uranium, uh…” she begins, looking down at the rock, “terra-something composite.”

“Tetrafluoride,” AR states flatly.

“Exactly. Also, don’t touch it with your bare hands.” She holds the rock out to you, and you set the torch aside to take it from her. Even through the thick fabric of your gloves, you can feel the warmth it’s giving off. “That thing is our ticket to victory. Just a shard of it can power an EMP gun for months. The trick is having the right wires to connect them, and thanks to that pile o’ scrap over there,” she points her thumb at the blue android’s remains, “we’ve got enough leftovers to modify every electromagnetic gun in the compound. Which is actually only nine guns, counting all the busted ones we had in maintenance, but I’d say our chances ain’t exactly zero. That’s our next project for today, anyways, but like I said, we’re ahead of schedule.”

You nod, trying your hardest to feel some of her excitement. After you’ve stared down at the rock long enough, she takes it back from you, frowning.

“Hey, so that reminds me,” she begins softly, “did you talk to Jake yet?”

“No,” you admit, picking up the torch and resuming winding the cord around your arm while she crosses the room to put the rock back on the shelf. AR stands from the table and turns to look over his shoulder, lifting one of his clawed limbs to poke at the fused disk on his back. Roxy returns to you shaking her head, making a short detour to swat at AR’s appendage until he lowers it.

“Don’t touch that ‘til it’s cooled off,” she mutters. “Dirk, look. I know the two of you can be pig-headed as all get out, but if you’d just _talk_ to each other-“

“He doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. He’s made that pretty damn clear,” you tell her, although you’re half referring to your brother at this point. She rolls her eyes.

“Hun, I’m telling you this from personal experience. One of you is gonna have to be the bigger person and actually start the conversation, which will likely end with a mutual apology, hearts on our sleeves, water under the bridge kinda thing. It’s like pulling off a band-aid, and trust me, you’ll feel a lot better when it’s done.”

She pats you on the shoulder, before pulling her gloves off and discarding them on the table where AR was sitting a moment ago, and they share another brief, cryptic glance. Suddenly she takes a step back, putting a hand on her chest with an exaggerated gasp.

“Oh shit,” she says, her voice colored with false dread. You lift an eyebrow at her.

“What?”

“I _totally_ forgot,” she stares at you with wide eyes, her expression grave. “Your bro wanted me to consolidate the fuel containers in the maintenance lab before we worked on AR. I totally, completely forgot to do that, _crap_.” She puts one hand on her hip and runs the other through her hair. “That’ll probably take me, like…an entire _hour_ to finish. Maybe even two.” When she looks up, you can tell she’s having trouble keeping a straight face. “Think you can hold down the fort while I’m gone?”

You blink at her, somewhat at a loss for how to react as she approaches you and leans in close with a grin.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Roxy mock-whispers before stepping away. “Hey, if I don’t see you again before shit goes down,” she says, but you realize a moment later that she isn’t talking to you. “Take care of yourself, okay? I mean that.”

AR stares at her without reply, but it doesn’t seem like she was expecting one. You flounder for what to say, torn between protesting and demanding a more in-depth explanation of what the hell she’s doing, until she waves goodbye a moment later and closes the door behind her.

Leaving you standing in the storage room with a torch in your hand, the cable wound around your arm, and AR standing behind you, his limbs shifting purposefully on the floor. When you turn around to look at him, he’s regarding you passively, almost innocently, if such a thing is possible for him.

“Did the two of you actually plan this?” you ask, incredulous at the thought, and a little shell-shocked about the implications. He seems to consider the question for a moment.

“I have been instructed to feign ignorance,” he finally replies, and when he meets your incredulous stare with his usual lack of emotion, you can’t help the stuttered, surprised laughter that quickly forces its way out, and the mildly confused look he’s giving you a moment later just makes it worse, until you give up and leave the torch and protective gear on the table. God, you missed him.

“You know saying that kind of defeats the purpose right?” you inform him, unable to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot.

“I have no reason to conceal her intentions from you.” His eyes follow as you step around him to inspect the circle of metal on his back, pretending you’re still occupied by the project rather than stalling and trying to ignore the rising swarm of butterflies in your stomach. Whatever Roxy’s intentions were, you can’t be upset with her for finally giving you a chance to be alone with him, although now that you’re really looking at the patch job, it’s obvious that she was right- some black paint really would have been necessary to hide the defect, but it helps that his plating is still scratched all over from the fight several days ago. The pattern of circuits in his skin is mismatched, each of the darkened wires leading to a gouged-out line in his plating where the blue android’s claws tore into him and severed the connection. You reach out and trace along one of the marks where it runs across his shoulder.

_Does that concept distress you?_

Your fingers pause, just before reaching the curve of his neck. When you’re quiet for too long, he turns to stare at you over his shoulder, and without another word, you take another step and lean in close, wrapping your arms around him and pressing yourself against his back, and he’s gloriously warm, like concrete after it’s been heated by the sun or the hood of a running vehicle. It’s the most wonderful thing you’ve felt since this nightmare of a day started, and you close your eyes, waiting to see what he’ll do and wondering if you really care one way or the other anymore.

“You lied to me.” His neck moves slightly as his head turns again at your soft voice. “All this time, I thought you really wanted to stay.”

“I did not lie to you.”

“It feels like you did,” you whisper, letting out a long breath. “But it’s okay. I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I know that…” your throat dips, as you pause to take a breath, “…I’m lucky to even have this much.”

When you finally open your eyes again, it’s to the iridescent black metal of his skin, and when you breathe out, it lingers on his neck as a faint, hazy mark. You tilt your head to the side and touch your mouth to it with a strange sense of reverence, then find one of the glowing red lines across his shoulder and repeat the motion, feeling it tingle against your lips.

“I do not understand you.”

You blink, lifting your head at the sound of his voice.

“You don’t?” Your own voice is barely more than a whisper, and suddenly the coiling appendages are brushing against your waist, then along your back. One of them clamps down on your shoulder, keeping you still as AR turns to face you.

“No,” he concedes. “I had anticipated that your companion Roxy would function as a useful source of information regarding your behavior and motivations beyond what I have observed, and while she has offered a significant amount of insight into our mutual situation, I remain unable to understand certain anomalous aspects of your personality.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” you mutter, lifting a hand and spreading your fingers against his chest, “I don’t really get you either, and it’s not like I haven’t tried.” You trace along the scratches in his plating, watching the intact red lines flicker as your fingertips pass over them. The burn mark is still there too, circling the base of his neck- a smudged discoloration that serves as a reminder of exactly what you started with. “But it’s not like I’ll ever stop trying.”

When you look up and meet his eyes, he’s staring at you, waiting, analyzing your actions, and you might as well be in the waterworks again, this time without blood dripping down your shirt. It would be an improvement if you didn’t have Bro’s accusations, Jake’s anger, and the evacuation all weighing on your mind at once. One of AR’s appendages is coiled securely around your legs, daring you to try and move away, but he seems unprepared when you reach up and rest both arms on his shoulders. His expression does something strange when you accidentally brush your fingers over the retracted wires behind his neck.

When you touch them again, purposefully this time, AR visibly tenses, and two of his appendages lift into the air, claws spread open in warning.

“Do all androids have these?” you ask, carefully exploring the metal-tipped wires you’ve seen him use to connect himself to various pieces of hardware. His reaction to having them touched isn’t all that surprising.

“No.”

“Because you’re an old model, right?”

“Yes,” he replies stiffly. You carefully grasp one of the metal connectors between thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling away as the coiled wire inside unravels, and AR practically bristles.

“Is it sensitive?” you grin, gently curling the black wire around your finger.

“My digital connection apparatus is a highly vulnerable component that is easily damaged, the loss of which would severely and permanently cripple my functionality.”

“I thought you trusted me,” you tease, and his eyes narrow.

“Your fingers are still intact, are they not?” he growls slowly, and suddenly you’re out of breath. He blinks in surprise when you lean in close, resting your forehead against his, and for the first time, you can see through the red glow of his eyes to the black glint of artificial lenses beneath.

Briefly, you wonder where all of your fear has gone.

He’d probably be curious about your behavior right now, if his precious wire wasn’t still wrapped around your fingers, but the fact that he hasn’t physically stopped you is evidence that he’s been telling the truth all this time, at least in that one regard- he really does trust you.

Hesitating, you close your eyes against the red light and breathe, willing your brother’s echoing words and the dissenting voice in your head to be silent, and narrowing your focus instead to the smooth metal against your forehead.

The last time you dreamt about doing this, he tore your head off.

This time, you let AR’s wire slowly unravel from around your fingers as you tilt your head, leaning in and carefully pressing your mouth against his.

It’s a simple kiss. His lips don’t feel like metal, but they don’t feel like skin, either. Knowing the way his mind works, it’s probably no different to him than any other form of physical contact, but inside, you’re counting through all the ways in which this means nothing to him ( _because Bro was right_ ) and how profoundly you’ve lost yourself, a desperation with no echo to match it, offering everything you have in sacrifice to a silent, empty void. You don’t attempt to deepen it, and he stays motionless until you lean away to find his eyes watching you with a complete absence of desire or affection, and even though it’s exactly what you were expecting, it still breaks your heart.

You lean into his neck and hide your face in the warm metal, willing the sting away from your eyes and telling yourself again to be grateful for what you have, repeating it like an angry mantra. Getting this close to him should be enough and you knew exactly what you were getting into, but it seems like no matter what you do there’s always this persistent, agonizing hope that he might actually care, that this isn’t just an experiment in human behavior for him, and _god_ how you wish you could kill that hope and bury it, because it still hurts, every single time.

AR lets you stay like that, leaning into him until you don’t feel chilled to the bone anymore, but something eventually brushes against the back of your waist, too small to be another clawed limb. You’re not prepared for the tingle of electricity, buzzing faintly against your skin when it finds the edge of your shirt, and the sudden, irrational flood of sensation when you identify it as the tips of his fingers, moving curiously along the base of your spine. He’s barely touched you, but a strange, broken sound forces its way out of your throat, as your body responds with a flooding desire so potent it’s alarming.

Squeezing your eyes shut against his neck, you try in vain to catch your breath while metal fingertips- you can count three of them, and the occasional hint of a fourth- slowly inspect the contours of your vertebrae, pausing only when you’ve lost a pathetically brief battle with your self-control as you clutch at his shoulders. Despite his professed lack of knowledge on human behavior, he does seem somewhat concerned, or at least confused enough about your reaction to stop and get your attention.

“Dirk.”

“ _Please_ ,” you whisper, well beyond any ability to participate in conversation right now. You can’t see his expression, but after a short pause, his hovering limbs begin to move, coiling around your body and sliding over your clothes in a culmination of every guilty thought you’ve ever had since you met him. One of them wraps around your shoulders and slowly, firmly forces you down, until you’re halfway kneeling on the floor in front of him. Another wraps around your neck, but when you try to lift your arms to reflexively grab at it, they’re held in place at your sides, and your entire body suddenly feels like it’s going up in flames.

AR meets your wide-eyed stare impassively and spreads his black fingers against your chest, pushing you down until you’re lying on the cold concrete floor. It’s enough to make you grit your teeth for a long, unpleasant moment, but not enough to distract you from how he places his knees on either side of your chest, and it occurs to you vaguely that he’s doing it this way on purpose.

The android stares down at you for a long, silent moment while his appendages secure themselves in coiled loops around your limbs (one for both arms, one for each leg), and you’re already breathing hard as the reality of what’s happening finally sinks in, even before you nervously try to pull at the metal coils, only to find that your head is the only thing left you can really move, and the revelation quickly makes your arousal swell to an unbearable, humiliating degree. AR waits until your movements still, before leaning down.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, a touch of derision in his voice as he fixes you with an unblinking stare. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t still scare you on some level, but your body can’t seem to tell fear apart from arousal anymore. There was a time when the serpentine limbs coiled around you were once a death sentence, and the déjà vu is putting you right back in the city, lying in the dirt with a flash drive clutched in your hand. You’ll be having fantasies about this for the rest of your life.

“Would it matter if I said no?” you whisper, unsure of where the words came from. AR stares at you for a long, silent moment, before his expression shifts into subtle amusement.

“You would be lying, if you said no.” he replies, his voice quiet. Something buzzes against your throat as he circles your neck with his hand, keeping his grip light, and the gesture makes your breath audibly hitch as his eyes narrow. “Because I know what stimulates you.”

Looking back on it, you can pinpoint the exact moment you lost all hope of restraint. Even if you didn’t trust him not to hurt you (which you do, almost nonsensically), there was nothing left to you after that but a desperation you could taste, as his fingertips leisurely felt along the ridges of your trachea, the very same part of you he threatened to crush not two months ago. Your eyes almost roll back when his other hand finds the bottom of your shirt, sliding underneath.

“I have made an observation, regarding the inherent nature of your species,” AR states conversationally, trailing his fingers up your chest and watching dispassionately as your back arches under his touch. “Even before the end of human civilization, your collective obsession with sexual activity was apparent, regardless of whether or not it correctly results in the development of offspring. There were few animals on Earth that exhibited the same misdirected excess of reproductive behavior…apart from insects.”

You’re not quite at the point of begging out loud yet, but you’re getting very close. The two appendages restraining your legs are constricting your thighs, just close enough to make you ache in the best way possible, but the complete lack of stimulation where you’re desperate for it most is torture. You can’t even move your hips with how tight he’s wound around you, but it doesn’t stop you from trying, and it isn’t long before you’re trembling with exertion.

“Your instincts in particular are remarkably defective,” AR says, leaning in close until his mechanical voice is buzzing in your ear. “Before we encountered one another, your settlement was filled with reproductively capable females, but instead, you had become fixated on another male.” His appendages tighten around your body, almost enough to hurt. “An inferior, pathetic excuse for a sentient creature that is more of a detriment to your species than I am.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” you curse breathlessly, as his hands move down your sides until they meet the waist of your pants. Your forehead presses into his neck when you turn your head, unable to release the tension building under your skin as he holds you still, and even your voice shakes with the strain. “AR, _please_ …”

“And yet, you have persisted this long, despite some of my better efforts to kill you.” He leans away, leaving you cursing through your teeth as the coils wrapped around your legs begin to move, forcing your knees apart until they’re held against the ground and leaving you spread wide open and trembling, unsure of how much more you can take, or if this will end before he’s even touched you.

“Please, I can’t…I-I… _ah_ ,” you’re past the point of being self-conscious, getting distressingly close to orgasm just from the slight friction of your pants as you try to twist in his grasp. He ignores you, shifting away from your chest to kneel between your legs. The coiled metal around your thighs moves down with him, pulling at the legs of your pants and exposing the rest of your abdomen, along with a few stray blond curls of hair. When he places his fingers just below your navel and slowly drags them down, you practically thrash in his grip, and your voice finally breaks when his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants.

Suddenly one of your legs is freed from the metal coils, and the next thing you see is an array of glinting points, hovering over your face as the appendage twists in the air. It takes a moment to orient itself, before descending and clamping firmly over your mouth, although this time he’s considerate enough not to cover your nose and suffocate you.

“Your vocalizations are excessive,” AR scolds, meeting your wide eyes before returning his attention to the waist of your pants.

 _Please don’t tear my clothes_ , you whimper incoherently, unable to move your head or see what he’s doing anymore with his claws clamped around your face like a steel trap. When you try to move the leg he’s freed, one of his hands grabs your knee and presses it back against the floor, keeping them apart. His fingers hook into your waistband again, pulling it down and exposing you to the cold air. It would be uncomfortable if his limbs weren’t so warm and your body wasn’t already in overdrive just at the fact that he’s observing your painfully aching hard-on with nothing more than detached curiosity.

His fingers brush against the inside of your bare thigh, and your inner voice becomes a senseless mantra of pleas and curses. Your hips twitch uselessly as the buzz of electricity trails closer, and the implications of that feeling finally hit you, just as he wraps his hand around you and the sensation arcs through your spine like a lightning strike, seizing up your entire body in his grasp with every muscle held taut, as your back arches mindlessly and your brain is utterly wiped blank.

He lets go after only a moment, but it felt like an eternity as you pant for air through your nose, exhausted and tingling from overstimulation. He lifts his own hand and stares at it, considering the red circuits running over his palm before turning his attention back to you. When he reaches down out of your line of sight again, you tense up apprehensively, flinching when something touches the base of your dick, but he keeps the contact light this time, using what feels like a single finger to trail up from base to tip, and repeating the motion a few more times before the unbearable heat starts to pool between your legs again.

“I apologize if that sensation was painful,” he says, and you barely have the presence of mind left to meet his eyes, as his finger leisurely circles the head of your cock. “I was unaware of how sensitive your genitals were to electricity, or how exaggerated your physical response would be to having them stimulated in this manner.”

You’re only able to understand half of what he’s saying, as this time a slow, deep burn gradually makes its way up your spine, soaking into your bones until you’re shivering every time his finger trails up the underside of your shaft. Whenever your hips twitch a little too hard, he ceases touching you until your movements still, and then the tingle of electricity returns. It isn’t long before you’re urgently twisting and pulling at his coils while he watches, unmoved by the frantic, muffled sounds you’re making as he mercilessly edges you.

“It is a pity that we do not have more time at our disposal,” he remarks as you helplessly shake in his grasp, unable to think coherently while his touches keep getting lighter and more fleeting, until it’s down to the brush of a single, buzzing fingertip against the head of your cock, but the feeling reverberates throughout your entire body. There’s no coordination left to your movements, and your approaching orgasm is wound up like a spring, but he keeps pulling you back, holding you still and stifling your desperate cries.

AR trails along the base of your shaft one last time, then circles it with his fingers as your legs jerk in his grasp, but he doesn’t let go of you this time, observing as your body squirms, then arches, muscles shaking weakly until you’re unable to breathe as the spring in your gut tightens. You’re held suspended in a moment of painful, blinding ecstasy as he suddenly squeezes harder, forcing you to the edge and holding you there, and your body practically convulses as the orgasm hits you, but it’s drawn-out for a long, unbearable moment before something wet finally leaks out from the sensitive slit. The claw still clamped onto your mouth mutes the broken sounds in your throat, as your back arches in rhythmic waves and cum slowly drips down the side of your shaft. It’s unbelievably good, even after it’s over and you’re left shuddering through the aftershocks.

For the next few moments, you focus only on filling your lungs until they don’t burn anymore. The metal limbs unwind themselves from your arms and legs, and you can tell you’ll be aching tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re startled when something clamps onto your leg and AR pulls you towards him, leaning over you as his appendage wraps itself around your waist.

“What’re you doing?” you mumble, swallowing against what is going to be a very sore throat later.

“Human orgasm results in elevated levels of the nonapeptide compound oxytocin, a hypophyseal neurotransmitter that exerts a psychological pair-bonding effect during the period of physical contact that follows sexual activity. I am taking advantage of this.”

You blink up at him in confusion, before a tired, but genuine laugh wells up in your chest. He lets you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down until he’s on the floor next to you, close enough that you can curl into his chest as the coils slide around your body, until you’re surrounded by warm, living metal. His circuits tingle pleasantly against your arms, and you close your eyes, trying to savor the peaceful moment before reality starts to creep its way back in.

“How long do we have?” you whisper, mindful of the drying mess on your abdomen and hoping that you didn’t get any of it on him. AR wouldn’t care, knowing him, but it would still be embarrassing.

“It has been slightly over one hour since your companion left.”

“Mm…fuck,” you sigh, fully aware that you should be worrying about Roxy walking in on you like this, but you aren’t interested in giving up the weight of his appendages draped across your legs, or worrying about the consequences of what comes after. AR doesn’t seem concerned when you start to drift in and out of sleep against his chest, as exhaustion catches up with you. There was a lot you wanted to say to him before Roxy came back, but as your time together quickly ran out, nothing else mattered but preserving that moment as long as you could, fully aware that it might be the last time you ever see him again. You’ll forgive yourself later for wasting the chance to tell him things that probably don’t matter anyway, in the grand scheme of things.

In the end, Roxy was kind enough to knock and give you a minute to untangle yourself from AR’s coils and compose yourself, before answering the door and resuming the steady march of time, counting down the final hours, and wishing with all your heart that it didn’t have to be this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some *ahem* [**very** not-safe-for-work fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/104972215711/jaboobie-ahahahahahahahahaha-please-fullview) by the gloriously talented [jaboody!!](http://jaboobie.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [A tender moment](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/104899764186/notacorpse-do-not-fuck-the-robob) by the exceptional [notacorpse!](http://notacorpse.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And [some lovely fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/108381838981/kitupsidedown-one-of-the-coiled-limbs-on-the) by the wonderful [kitupsidedown!](http://kitupsidedown.tumblr.com/)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/107055154126/endangered-22-24) on Tumblr.

You hadn’t really appreciated how few people were left in the compound, until later that evening when you saw them all gathered together at the entrance to the subway tunnels. While the handful of guards went around making sure everyone was present and accounted for, Roxy helped you run through the maintenance lab’s checklist one last time, while Jane did the same for the infirmary. The compound’s supply of food and water took priority, along with whatever medicine and weaponry were left over. There was already too much to carry, and not enough volunteers left to handle the extra weight, so you ended up leaving most of it behind.

Roxy vetoed your decision to pull the fuel tank, and left you with your own weight in tools and equipment to carry, hastily wrapped together with spare cables and constantly threatening to come undone in your arms. It wouldn’t be so difficult if you weren’t also insulated in layers of clothing, and while it keeps your skin warm, there’s nothing to stop the cold from chilling your lungs. The hushed crowd of people around you set the slow pace through the darkened subway tunnels, everyone carrying their own burden- bundles of supplies, extra clothes, lamps and flashlights, and anything else they couldn’t afford to leave behind, as you gradually migrate along the subway tracks beneath the city. Their voices and whispers echo from the concrete walls while you focus on your feet, trying to ignore the familiar pain in your chest and the lingering ache in your wrists where AR’s coils held you. You’d give anything to feel his warmth right now.

“Fuck,” Roxy mutters under her breath, falling into step next to you. The wheeled fuel tank leaves faint tracks on the ground as she uses one hand to pull it along behind her, a heavy burlap sack of equipment slung over her shoulder with the other. “It wasn’t this cold a few days ago, what the hell.”

You mumble something noncommittal in reply. She glances around quickly, then leans in close, the air from her lungs curling like smoke in front of you.

“So hey, I went up ahead and talked to Calli,” she whispers, before something or someone behind you catches her eye. She tosses her head twice in an exaggerated ‘come here’ gesture, and after a long moment, Jane appears next to her with an overstuffed backpack, the straps digging into her shoulders. “I just talked to Calli,” Roxy repeats quietly to her as they walk together, while you silently contemplate your feet. “She said it’ll be at least a week ‘fore we reach the next compound, assuming everything goes wrong.”

“Roxy, don’t say that,” Jane scolds, sounding just as tired and irritable as you feel. Someone accidentally brushes against your shoulder as they walk past, and you resist the urge to glare at the back of their head.

“We’re stopping at the city limits where the tunnels end tonight. If the plan works they’ll send someone to bring us back, but if we don’t hear anything by morning, we’re supposed to just keep headin east ‘til we hit the next city over, and then hope for the best or whatever.” Roxy glares over her shoulder at the fuel tank, as it clatters over a rough spot on the ground. “She says they’re not even sure there’s anyone left at this other place, but we’ll fortify it and start over if we have to, if the whole city ain’t already picked over.

“Well then, we’ll hope it doesn’t come to that,” Jane mutters, before giving you a long, quiet look that you don’t have the energy to return. Something else catches your attention, as a metallic clink draws your eyes to the figure trailing behind one of the guards at the edge of the crowd. You have a good idea who it is, based on the pair of handcuffs padlocked to a heavy chain, as he’s led along like a dog on a leash. When Caliborn senses your stare and looks up, it’s like he’s trying to set you on fire by willpower alone, and you quickly return to watching your feet.

“ _Technically,_ ” Roxy drawls out in a hushed whisper, “we ain’t allowed to send anyone back to check for survivors if everything ends up going to shit, but I say fuck that. It’s not like they can spare anyone to go after us if we decide to bail and catch up later-”

“Roxy,” Jane turns on her angrily, and you let out a quiet sigh. “I have had quite enough of all this rule-breaking and silly behavior from just about everyone in my life right now, so if you don’t mind, I’d like for all of us to just do as we’re told and not get ourselves into any more of a wretched mess than we’re already in!”

Jane’s voice starts to crack at the end, and Roxy only gets halfway through apologizing before Jane interrupts her to do the same, and they fall into step behind you, as Roxy murmurs to her while Jane sniffs. You want to help, but you don’t know what to say anymore, and it wouldn’t be right to interrupt them with the way Jane’s arm is wrapped around Roxy’s shoulder, their heads bowed together. You know why she’s upset, and you can’t blame her.

Jake volunteered to stay behind, as one of the compound’s members who would fight against the drones and HIC. When she found out, Jane tried to volunteer herself, but since she’s one of the few remaining infirmary workers, Bro forbade it. Just before your group left the compound, you saw her talking to Jake in a secluded corner, away from the noise of people and equipment. They must have finally made up, from the way they hugged at the end of it, but you parted with him still on bad terms, too unsure of what his reaction would be if you tried to apologize or explain yourself now, and you’ve never hated yourself so much. Out of the four of you, Roxy was the only one who never volunteered to stay, and she only patted you on the shoulder when you asked her why.

Roxy and Jane soon catch up with you again, this time falling into step on either side of you.

“And as for you,” Jane starts, but she sounds more tired now than upset. “I’m still a bit sore about how you avoided our checkups, and even after I left you a note about it.” She frowns, and Roxy pointedly finds something on the opposite side of the tunnel to keep her attention.

“Sorry,” you mumble, unable to explain yourself any further.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, and you experience a very familiar urge to vanish into the ground, before she continues. “You haven’t been having any headaches, have you? No blurred vision? Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you quietly reassure her, before trying to divert attention by pretending to shuffle the bundle of equipment around in your arms.

“I’ve been so worried about you, Dirk,” Jane sighs, her gaze turning distant as she stares through the shuffling crowd ahead. “We all have, ever since you started working yourself to death again, and then, well…” She trails off, suddenly unsure, and you notice Roxy glancing at her. “Those orders from the infirmary weren’t just suggestions, you know. I almost reported you to your brother.”

You wince a little, imagining how that conversation might have gone, but she’s right. Even after several days of skipping out on your mandated checkups, you were never reprimanded or put under house arrest for it. With everything else going on, it hadn’t occurred to you as strange until now.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well…” she bites her lip, meeting Roxy’s eyes as they seem to silently agree on something, and her voice lowers to a whisper. “Roxy… told me about what was going on…with you and that android.”

You stare at her for a long, horrified moment, before looking up at Roxy, and her face is written over with guilt.

“Sorry, hun … I kinda had to,” she says softly, but your mind is already elsewhere.

“Does Jake know?” you ask, almost scared of the answer, but Roxy shakes her head.

“Nah, I don’t think so, not unless someone else told him. ‘Figured that would do _way_ more harm than good,” she mutters. Jane is still watching you, her expression sympathetic, but what really hurts is that you didn’t trust her enough to tell her yourself, once again leaving Roxy to step in and solve your problems. You’d apologize to both of them, but it would sound strange coming out of nowhere.

“I can’t say that I understand it very well,” Jane sighs, reaching over with one hand to gently grasp your shoulder, “or if that’s my fault, or maybe it’s because a certain _someone_ made it sound like you had died when she pulled me aside the other day while I was on my way to see your brother, which scared me half to death,” Jane glowers briefly at Roxy, who mock-pouts at her, “but it would be hypocritical of me to pass judgment on someone else’s feelings, especially when it all sounds so horribly complicated.”

You can’t meet her eyes anymore, as the three of you walk together amongst the crowd. She rubs your back reassuringly while you attempt to keep a tight lid on your emotions, with partial success.

“I suppose it _is_ my fault after all,” she says, quickly cutting you off when you try to disagree. “No, I mean that. It’s my fault that you felt like you couldn’t tell me, and I’ve been thinking…maybe I’ve been letting this whole infirmary thing go to my head recently. It’s a lot of responsibility I’m still not quite accustomed to, and it all came on so quickly when everything changed after English…” she lets out a long breath, “after we lost so many people. Suddenly there was so much to do, and no one else around to do it. I’ve never had so many depending on me before, and I thought I was doing the right thing by putting my job first, but…” she looks up at Roxy, who nods solemnly, understanding. “Things were so much simpler before when we were still a team, spending all day out in the city together, and I miss that more than anything.”

She puts an arm around your shoulders, and you lean into her.

“I wish Jake had come with us,” she whispers, on the verge of tears again.

“He’ll catch up,” you reassure her, forcing yourself to believe the words for her sake. “Roxy told me you guys were still fighting yesterday. Is everything okay now?”

Jane nods, leaning away briefly to recompose herself. “It was over something so silly too, I can’t believe we acted like such children.”

“Yeah…I know what you mean,” you mumble to yourself, and Roxy suddenly bumps your shoulder hard enough to make you stumble over the tracks, drawing several nearby stares.

“You didn’t talk to Jake before we left?” she asks, her tone incredulous. You meet her frown with guilt, too ashamed to curse her intuition.

“You’re still fighting with him?” Jane asks with wide eyes. “Even now, with everything that’s happened? I know I shouldn’t talk, but _Dirk_ …”

“I didn’t know what to say to him,” you finally admit, after they’ve both worn you down with silence.

“Uhh how about, I dunno- _I’m sorry?_ ” Roxy looks like she would hit you upside the head if her hands weren’t full.

“But he doesn’t understand-”

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Roxy hisses, fighting the urge to raise her voice. “Yes, his die-hard hatred for AR is a little bit excessive given the circumstances, and explaining things to him probably won’t change that now, but you have _got_ to look past that, Dirk. Being friends like we are- like family, doesn’t mean you have to agree on everything all the time, even when something feels too important not to. You can’t just let it go and ruin everything.”

“Roxy’s right, you know,” Jane adds softly. “And besides, I’m sure if you were honest with him, and explained what you’ve been going through, he would understand.”

Roxy hums at her uncertainly, before turning back to you. “Just promise me that when we see him again, the first words out of your mouth will be an apology, and nothing else.” She levels you with a particularly serious stare. “Okay?”

“Yes, okay,” you concede, and it seems to placate her. “You’re right, I should have at least tried before we left.”

She nods in satisfaction, then looks up as the guard leading the crowd ahead signals everyone to stop. The sound of hushed talking echoes faintly throughout the tunnel, and you take the opportunity to put the bundle of equipment down and stretch your stiff arms, while Roxy abandons the fuel tank and helps Jane remove her overstuffed backpack, before they sit down together on the tracks. You huddle with them while Jane’s dad passes out a small ration of food and water, stopping briefly to ask how you’re all doing and exchange a few brief words with Jane, before moving on to the next group.

After talking to her dad, Jane fishes a glowstick out of her backpack and cracks it, allowing you to see the handful of dried oatmeal and ancient chunks of fruit in your hand. She picks hers out first, popping them into her mouth one at a time, while Roxy finishes her food in one large mouthful before chasing it with water and standing up.

“I’m gonna go find Calli and get an ETA on when we’ll hit the city limits. I’ll be right back.”

She’s gone a moment later, leaving you alone with Jane who eventually coaxes you into eating, while you ignore the way Caliborn is trying to burn a hole through your head from the other side of the tunnel.

"I’ve been wondering,” Jane begins, after fishing out a cloth from her pocket and wiping her hands clean, before passing it to you. “Even from the start, Jake has never particularly cared for AR, which is understandable to be quite honest, given how many times that android sent you to the infirmary.” She pauses for a moment, and you lower your eyes, hoping she won’t pursue that topic any further. “But I don’t see why he was so vehemently against the truce your brother arranged.”

“They just don’t get along,” you shrug, restlessly thumbing the cloth’s edge. “They never have. All they do is insult each other. I tried to demonstrate AR’s network archive system for Jake, and it was a complete disaster.” You return the cloth to her and cross your arms, leaning back against the cold wall. “That was when we started fighting, a few days ago.”

Jane nods, leaning back against your shoulder. “You know, I made good use of that archive during the short time we had it, looking up all sorts of medical procedures and things, and AR was always rather polite and accommodating about my questions, if not a bit robotic at times.” She pauses to breathe into her hands, having removed her gloves earlier to eat. “He really is very knowledgeable, though.”

You murmur an agreement, feeling the slow sting of recent memories- the way his forehead felt pressed against yours, the red glow of his eyes, the gentle buzz of circuitry against your skin. Your rest your head against the wall and put an arm around Jane when she starts to shiver, the lack of movement chilling both of you. Roxy returns after another minute, immediately nestling into your side while Jane giggles. You’re just grateful for the extra warmth.

“She’s says it’ll be an hour or two at least. We might take another break before then, depending on how folks hold up. What’d I miss?”

“You didn’t miss anything,” Jane chides gently. “We were just discussing the ongoing matter of our mutual acquaintances.”

“Oh yeah? I think it’s safe to say AR is more than just a mutual acquaintance now,” she chuckles, and you elbow her as best you can with her body pressed against your arm. Jane rolls her eyes.

“Roxy, really now. Don’t tease him.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m sorry,” she grins unapologetically, and you can’t help the quiet laugh it forces out of you. Her smile spreads wider, into something more genuine. “Thaaat’s more like it. I’ve been wondering when you were gonna snap out a’ that funk.”

Jane laughs warmly, as Roxy pulls your arm over her own shoulder in an effort to steal as much of your body heat as she can. You sit in comfortable silence with them, feeling the off-tempo rise and fall of their chests and the occasional shiver. Everyone is huddled together in small groups, talking in low voices while Calliope walks around with another guard, making sure everyone is still accounted for. There’s something peaceful about it, despite the circumstances, but no matter what you do, you can’t keep your thoughts from dwelling on AR, along with Jake and your Bro, and the others who stayed behind. They must be getting ready to confront HIC by now, with whatever strategic plan Bro put together with the handful of EMP guns you helped Roxy rework into free, cordless weapons. Bro’s assessment of the plan seemed pessimistic from the beginning, but Roxy’s stalwart hope has kept you going, and you don’t know what you’d have done without her. After everything she’s been through for you and all the nonsense you dragged her into, there still hasn’t been a good opportunity for you to make it up to her. Even your relationship with AR wouldn’t be what it is now without her, and the thought suddenly reminds you of something important.

“Hey, Rox?” you keep your voice soft, and she turns to look up at you from where her head is nestled into your shoulder. “Yesterday, when AR got angry and we were on our way back from the maintenance lab, you talked to him with my shades, and afterwards he got quiet and wouldn’t tell me what it was about.” You remember vividly how difficult it was to fall asleep last night, not knowing if AR was still upset with you. “What did you say to him?”

Roxy meets your eyes for a long moment, her expression hesitant. She eventually turns away, towards the small, loose crowd of people in front of you while Jane watches her curiously.

“Don’t be mad, okay?” Roxy whispers with a small frown. You nod carefully, unsure now of what to expect. “The thing you gotta understand is that AR isn’t the way he’s supposed to be, and he knows it too, which just makes the whole thing way more tragic.”

You already know what she’s talking about, but Jane frowns. “What do you mean?’”

“I mean back when the other androids found him at the start of the apocalypse, they chopped up his brain and turned him into something he wasn’t,” Roxy tells her. “And now, he’s still as smart as any computer, but there’s things he can’t understand anymore, and that’s not his fault. It’s just…hard for him to think sometimes, with his mind all in pieces the way it is. That’s why he’s always going around gathering random info like an automated query list. He remembers wanting to learn, but he can’t remember why.”

You listen to her words, unable to comment as the meaning sinks in. Even with all the time you spent talking to AR, you hadn’t realized the true implications of what had been done to him, and the fact that Roxy somehow managed to gain such a depth of understanding over the several days they knew each other makes you feel conflicted, more than anything else. Roxy pulls you back to the conversation, before your mood has a chance to sink again.

“So yesterday, when he was actin’ like a dick, I presented to him a hypothetical scenario.” She sits up, turning to face you and Jane so she can gesture while she talks. “I told him to think about the situation he was in, hooked up to the base’s network like he was, and then I told him to think about you,” she points at your chest, “and everything that had happened leading up to where he was now. I told him to remember the whole thing with the flash drive and how you offered to off yourself for us, and again after English attacked, and when Caliborn kicked you outside and the other android almost killed you, and how you woulda died afterwards if he hadn’t saved you all those times, and I told him to think real hard about every time you tried to sacrifice yourself. Each time, you came out of it alive, and every time you risked your life, it brought AR one step closer to where he was now- hooked up to the command center’s network, with everyone in the compound benefiting from it.” Roxy shrugs, lifting an eyebrow. “So I told him, what if all those times you risked yourself, you were never actually putting yourself in any real danger? What if you knew he’d stop you from killing yourself that first time, because he’d be too curious to let you die? Or that he wouldn’t kill you in the waterworks because it wouldn’t be as satisfying, and that he’d save your life after English attacked, and again when Caliborn inevitably tried to get revenge, because he’d be driven to know why you helped him? What if you'd known that he’d eventually be forced to make a deal with your Bro because the compound would be the only safe place left for him at that point? Although, I didn’t know about his own plans at the time,” she mutters. “But my point was, no matter how he looked at it, you had him exactly where you wanted him. He couldn’t leave the compound, because the other androids would kill him, and your Bro had him sharing all his precious info with the compound’s citizens, which meant that we’d never have to worry about a lack of resources again, at least in the intellectual sense. After all that had happened between you and him, I told him to think hard about who had come out on top, and to consider who had really been manipulated this whole time.”

You stare at her, feeling something very close to horror, as she smiles mischievously.

“But, y’ know. It was just a hypothetical scenario, after all.” She turns and settles back into your side, making herself comfortable as Jane blinks at her.

“That was downright insidious, Roxy,” Jane tells her, with an undertone of awe.

“Yeah, well,” Roxy yawns, stretching her arms out in front of her. “It wasn’t true of course, but still…I could tell it scared him, just the possibility of it.” She smiles, resting her head against your shoulder again, before looking out at the people huddled together in the tunnel, as her expression falls. “Then I told him to remember that feeling, because it’s the exact same fucking thing he’s been doing to you this entire time, and in spite of all that and how cruel and inconsiderate he’s been, you still love him.” She sighs heavily, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I told him for that, you deserve his kindness, if nothing else.”

Roxy falls silent as she watches the compound’s citizens, and you’re left to brood on your own thoughts, still uncertain how to feel about Roxy using your relationship with AR against him, or secretly telling Jane about said relationship, but after everything you’ve done lately, you’re in no position to judge her for working to repair the cracks you’ve made between you and your friends. You’ve never felt so unsure of yourself, not since you were a child, but she’s always been the glue that holds the four of your together. Where AR fits into all that, you’re still unsure, and the thought of him conjures the same familiar pain from before.

“What is that?” Jane whispers, interrupting your thoughts as she glances around the tunnel curiously. Roxy lifts an eyebrow at her.

“What is what?”

“That,” Jane mutters, reaching behind you to press her hand against the concrete wall. “You don’t feel it?”

You hold your breath, concentrating on the cold wall at your back, before your attention is caught by the faint, rhythmic pulse you’d mistaken for your own heartbeat, but now that you’re focusing on it, the feeling isn’t coming from you…

It’s coming from the walls.

Several other people in the crowd seem to realize it too, as the vibrations suddenly grow loud enough to hear. Jane nervously tries to stand up, before Roxy pulls her back down and grabs your arm, forcing the three of you to remain in a group as dirt begins to fall from the ceiling. You don’t have time to wonder at the cause, lifting yourself on your knees to cover the two of them as the vibrations grow into a rhythmic pounding, the dust thick enough to choke on. You squeeze your eyes shut and angle your head down towards the floor, trying to keep the dirt out of your nose and mouth while the tunnel violently shakes around you, the panicked voices of the compound lost to the deafening sound.

Eventually it fades, retreating into the distance while the air slowly clears. You lift your head and cough, mimicking dozens of others who do the same, along with Jane and Roxy as they emerge from beneath your arms. Every inch of you is caked with dust, but the two of them seem to have escaped the worst of it. Roxy’s hands are on you a moment later, brushing the dirt out of your hair and wiping it from your eyes, until you can see without squinting. One of the guards is going around a moment later, carrying the cordless EMP gun and urging everyone to stand up and keep moving. The activity in the tunnel approaches chaotic levels as Roxy grabs the fuel tank and Jane stumbles away into the crowd to find the other infirmary workers. You locate the glowstick and the bundle of equipment you were carrying earlier, and follow Roxy as she shoulders her burlap sack. The crowd starts to move again, and Jane returns a few minutes later.

“What on earth _was_ that?” she asks Roxy, as you trail behind them, still trying to cough the dust out of your lungs.

“Something big,” Roxy tells her, staring straight ahead. “Maybe footsteps. Dirk’s bro said the drones would be out lookin around by now, but even if they find us, we’ve got the gun to defend ourselves. We can take ‘em, don’t worry.”

Jane nods, and falls silent as they walk together. The dust is still settling, but you can just make out Calliope at the front of the crowd, leading the compound, with the guard carrying the EMP gun close behind her. You’re running on adrenaline now, focused on getting yourself and your friends as far from that sound as possible, while something else quietly nudges at the back of your mind.

You can’t put a name to the slow fear coiling in the pit of your stomach, or the recent memories whispering quietly in your ear. You’re trying to ignore them, focusing on your feet and the shuffle of the crowd around you, but you’re unable to block them out, and the harder you try, the louder those voices become, until you’re suddenly hearing them again like a potent hallucination.

_“AR is giving us the means to fight back, it wouldn’t make sense for him to turn on us.”_

_“I’m considering putting Caliborn to death for a failed attempt at murder, and if we weren’t hanging by our very last, proverbial thread, that android would have been a pile of scrap metal the moment it set foot in here.”_

_“Disclosing such information would have jeopardized your leader’s compliance during our negotiations.”_

_“That reason, and that reason alone is why I am allowing the android to stay.”_

_“We have no reason whatsoever to trust him, and I don’t bloody well understand why you don’t all think he’ll turn on us the moment that ruling she-android or whatever is dead.”_

_This includes refraining from killing your male companion, provided that he does not attempt to harm me._

_"You knew it was coming! You’ve wanted us dead this whole time! We should have killed you right from the start!”_

_“Getting rid of her would completely remove the reason why you haven’t continued your happy little campaign of tearing everyone in this city apart.”_

_“Do you suspect that I will attack your settlement? I would have more to fear from your weaponry, the very ones that I have offered to help you build, if I were to attempt this.”_

_Dirk might have forgotten what you did to us, but I haven’t. You nearly killed him, and I’m not the only one around here who’d like to see you turned into scrap metal._

_They’re literally built to do nothing more than kill us. All of them are just hardware and wires in a metal shell, they aren’t people!_

_They don’t change, mate._

“They’re going to kill him,” you whisper, and Jane turns around to glance at you questioningly.

“What’s that, Dirk?”

You stare back at her, trying to breathe through the panic constricting your chest, until you swallow and manage a quiet “nothing.” She frowns at you for a moment, unsure what to make of your behavior, before turning back to Roxy, not realizing that you’re drowning in fear right in front of her. Your mind is scrambling, simultaneously trying to deny the evidence right in front of you- Bro’s tenuous trust in AR vanished the moment HIC appeared, and Jake would never have abandoned all of you to stay behind and fight without a reason, along with the fact that you know he’s been meeting with your brother alone, ‘expressing his concerns about your recent behavior.’

You almost reach out to grab Roxy’s shoulder, before stopping yourself. There’s nothing you can do from here, and no way of reaching Bro or the others without a communicator. The guard up ahead might have one, but there’s no hope of getting it until the group stops again, which could be hours from now, provided you could even steal it, and then what could you possibly say to Bro to change his mind? You’re trapped in the tunnels while AR and the others fight against HIC, and if they succeed, Bro will continue to do what he’s always done- put the safety of the compound first, above all else.

You can’t afford the faint hope that you might be wrong.

Roxy and Jane are still walking together, just ahead of you, and as the three of you approach a bend in the tunnels, something rectangular against the far wall catches your eye.

A door.

From the look of it, probably a maintenance access point. It’s the only one you’ve seen in the last hour, and the metal is worn and rusted around the edges, maybe even locked from the inside, but you’re about pass it as your feet carry you along the tracks, while Jane and Roxy talk together, no more than several steps ahead.

You can’t drag them into this. You’re done risking their lives for your feelings and stupid mistakes, and no matter how much they might hate you for it, this isn’t something you can ignore for their sake. You love them, with all your heart you love them, and you’d die for them a hundred times over, but right now AR is the one in danger, and this time, you aren’t going to let them risk themselves, even if that means taking away their right to choose.

Without another thought, you drop the armful of equipment on the ground and cross the tunnel, ignoring the people around you and reaching out to grasp the metal handle. The door miraculously unlatches when you pull down, then swings open, allowing you to step through into pitch blackness as the first voice comes from behind you- Roxy, calling out your name in confusion- before the door swings shut with a clang. Your fingers find the metal latch, throwing it into place just as someone pounds on the other side, and you lean with your back against it for a long moment, begging their forgiveness through gritted teeth as Jane and Roxy’s muffled voices shout at you from the other side.

Fingers shaking, you find Jane’s glowstick still tucked into your pocket and lift it, revealing the narrow, concrete corridor ahead of you, lined with thin pipes and box-shaped panels of buttons and fuses. You take a step, looking back at the door one last time as Roxy’s frantic voice tears into your heart, before facing the darkness and forcing yourself to keep moving forward. They’ll be safe here with the others, and you’ll come back for them soon.

You force yourself to believe it, for their sake.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/107909047311/endangered-23-24) on Tumblr.

In the pitch blackness and silence of the maintenance tunnels, time seems to run differently.

During your days as a scavenger, you often wandered away from your friends, driven by a restless curiosity that would have eventually gotten you killed someday if AR hadn’t found you first. Still, your friends were always within earshot, no less than a block or two away, and you always had your shades to contact the base’s network if something went wrong. Even though the city has never been safe, and going outside was always a risk, you took your chances together. No matter what happened, you had each other, and knowing that always made you feel safe.

Now, as you follow the metal pipes and wires above your head by the glowstick’s dim light, for the first time in your life, you’re completely and utterly alone.

The concrete tunnel is dark and narrow, forcing you to squeeze past filthy pipes and metal boxes of strange electrical equipment, while the cold slowly numbs your fingers. The sound of your unsteady breathing and footsteps echo against the walls, and every other unidentified sound in the darkness is enough to make your heart race, until it flutters in your chest like a frightened bird. You’ve already passed multiple splits in the tunnel, each time choosing the path that looked the widest, or trying to feel the direction of the air currents, or picking randomly after realizing that you’re hopelessly lost.

Finally, after navigating the endless black tunnels, there’s a hint of light in the distance. You follow it with renewed vigor, rounding several bends in the path until there’s a door in front of you, broken and leaning on its hinges. Forcing it with your shoulder eventually opens up enough space for you to crawl through, into the entrance of an unknown subway station. You waste no time finding the stairs that lead up to the street, lit by the sharp angles of setting sunlight. The glowstick is tucked into your pocket, before you brush yourself off and climb the steps to the surface.

When you reach the sidewalk above, the buildings and streets are entirely unfamiliar. You’re closer to the center of the city than you’ve ever been before, unsure of your location after wandering underground so long with no sense of direction. Even the processing plant’s towers, which you’ve always used as a landmark while outside scavenging, aren’t visible from wherever you’ve ended up, and the best you can do is roughly determine the direction of west by the sun’s position. Now that you’re above ground, the distant sound of rhythmic, interrupted thumping and the occasional louder impact is evident, but the surrounding buildings are tall and close together, blocking your ability to see more than a few blocks in any direction. Even the wreckage of vehicles and broken pavement is strangely dense in this area, suggesting a long-past, catastrophic event.

Listening carefully, you pick the direction from which the sounds are loudest, and follow them. It’s an awkward, improvised navigation between alleyways choked off by wreckage, and fractured buildings held up only by their steel skeletons over mountains of concrete and metal debris. You’re conscious of how exposed you are, sacrificing caution for speed as a cloud of dirt appears like a plume in the distance, before the wind quickly blows it away. The cold air cuts through your clothes, but climbing over the uneven terrain keeps you warmer than you were before in the tunnels. Whatever happens, you need to move fast. From the sounds of distant conflict, you might not be too late, but you’re still too far away to be sure.

Eventually, the buildings move apart as they decrease in height, and you get a first glimpse of what Jane was talking about when she relayed Jake’s story to you this morning. In the distance, hanging motionless in the sky, its vibrant red color obscured by the atmospheric haze, is what you can only describe as an impossibly massive structure. It’s just like Jane said- like a skyscraper has somehow lifted itself into the air, but the similarity stops at its bizarre shape- all curves and sharp points, casting a strange, broken shadow on the city beneath it. You’re mesmerized for a long moment, trying to wrap your mind around how something so huge could just float like that, but the sun is close to the horizon now, burning out your vision and forcing you to squint.

There’s a shop on the side of the street, its door missing and the inside hollowed out by a past explosion. You duck inside through the missing front door and lean against the wall, then blow into your curled fingers to regain some of the sensation, enough to feel around in your pocket for your shades. The stems unfold after a minute of fumbling, and you slide the eyewear on your face, dimming the harsh light from the street. You’re leaning out of the empty doorway and scanning the distance for signs of movement, when something flickers on your screen.

TT: Hello, Dirk.

Your heart practically stops as you stare at the message, before a wave of conflicting emotions almost drowns you. The first feeling you manage is confusion, since Calliope told you this morning that the compound’s network had been deleted.

TT: AR??  
TT: Yes.  
TT: Your implied confusion at my identity is uncharacteristic of your typical response pattern.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, leaning against the wall and waiting for your heart to slow down.

TT: How the hell are you doing this? I thought the network was deleted.  
TT: Your settlement’s network was indeed deleted, an action that I carried out at the request of your brother in order to conceal the location of your settlement from HIC.  
TT: I am conducting this conversation by utilizing the ambient worldwide network that is accessible to all units of artificial intelligence, as a means of information transfer from remote units to the various structural hubs that my civilization built over the ruins of your civilization’s major cities.  
TT: It is the primary method of all electronic communication.  
TT: So I’m connected to some kind of android internet?  
TT: This is an approximate, although significantly less technologically advanced comparison.  
TT: I didn’t know my operating system could do that.  
TT: I am your operating system.

You blink at the built-in screen, before remembering how AR got your shades working again after Bro wiped them. He must have somehow replaced the computer with himself, which is utterly fascinating in its own right, but you have more important things to worry about.

TT: Where are you?  
TT: I am several miles east from the location of your settlement, with your brother and his ‘volunteers’ as they systematically lure in and eliminate the drones that have emerged from the battleship.  
TT: Is there a reason for this inquiry?

You know what you need to do, but as you try to find the words to warn him about your brother’s intentions, something inexplicably holds you back.

AR has demonstrated repeatedly what he’s capable of, both in speed and ability to shred anything in front of him. Bro will probably take this into account and try to catch him unaware, in all likelihood using Jake to actually carry it out, but there’s no guarantee that it won’t backfire on both of them. AR might already be expecting Bro and the others to attack him after HIC is dead.

You ignore the quiet voice in the back of your head, telling you that AR will likely turn on them regardless.

The cold air burns when you take a deep breath, wrapping your arms around yourself. Now, more than ever, you need to reach them before it’s too late. You still haven’t the slightest idea what you’re going to do once you’re there, but somehow, there’s got to be a way to save them all and end this vicious cycle. AR’s red text is waiting for an answer, and there’s only one thing that comes to mind anymore.

TT: I love you.

There’s a short pause, before another line of text appears in response.

TT: I am aware.

You can’t help the warm smile it brings to your face, despite the complete lack of empathy in his words. After a minute spent listening for distant sounds, you step out into the street and continue on your way, taking a short detour around an overturned truck blocking the road.

TT: Did the android empress show up yet?  
TT: No, however most of her drones have already been eliminated, and it is likely that she will soon emerge as planned.  
TT: Are you nervous?  
TT: No.  
TT: Despite your brother’s insistence that our probability of success is insufficient, it is relatively unlikely that HIC will instead utilize the battleship’s weaponry to destroy this city in its entirety, rather than physically engage me directly.  
TT: Furthermore, there have been no human casualties, which is significantly less than I had initially estimated.

Another cloud of dirt appears briefly, as the rhythmic impact of footsteps causes the pavement to vibrate beneath your feet. There’s a hint of movement at the end of the street- something large and red- and you crouch down behind one of the rusted cars, waiting for the ground to stop shaking, before cutting through one of the alleyways to follow the next street over. Most of the buildings here are collapsed, and you’re starting to recognize some of the rooftops, although you’ve only seen them before from a distance.

You’re relieved to finally have an idea of where you are, but the feeling is quickly replaced by a knife of fear to the gut when you turn down the next road, and the flash of color you’d mistaken for another overturned truck blocking the center of the street is actually a hulking, unnatural conglomeration of vaguely humanlike limbs, tall enough to dwarf the row of buildings beside it. The drone’s slanted, featureless face and slitted eyes are already directed towards you- an empty stare that has you frozen in place, until you’re startled by a sudden shout.

“Dirk?!”

A human figure steps out from behind the robot’s wide leg, cradling a familiar rectangular device in their arms, and the glasses are the only thing you recognize at first under the heavy layers of clothing. Jake stands on the sidewalk near the motionless drone, staring at you in stark disbelief. The fact that he's ignoring the robot means that it’s probably not a threat anymore, and now you can actually see the thing's angular shoulder leaning against the building next to it. You’re torn between staring back at Jake and gazing up at the drone’s looming figure, but he quickly loses his patience at your silence.

“What in the bloody hell are you _doing here_?” he hisses, a sharp edge to his voice. Several different explanations immediately come to mind, none of them the truth, and his incredulous frown deepens with every passing moment that you fail to answer, until Roxy’s words suddenly echo in your mind. The next decision comes easily, one that you should have made a long time ago- to trust her.

“I’m sorry.” You have to force your voice above a whisper, watching as Jake’s frown slowly turns from anger to baffled confusion. “About before, with AR, over that chat the other day. I shouldn’t have…” you trail off, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, staring like you’ve gone insane.

“Wh-” he stammers incredulously a few times, blinking at you. “O-okay then…fine, yes, I’m grateful for the apology, but Dirk, seriously, what are you doing here?”

He approaches as he talks, stopping in front of you with the gun in his arms, as the sound of distant fighting echoes down the street. Meeting his eyes is almost painful, especially since you know what comes next, but this time, it’s Jane’s words you need to trust.

“I had to come back,” you tell him, resisting the urge to fidget under his hard stare. It’s almost like you’re confessing to Bro, but you know the reality of that will be far worse.

“You left the group?” Jake demands, before shaking his head angrily. “What the bloody fuck is wrong with you? And don’t you dare tell me this is about that wretched tin can, I swear to hell and back…” he trails off, demanding an answer. You force yourself to breathe, bowing your head for a long moment before forcing yourself to say it.

“I-I’m… in love with him, Jake.”

It comes out quiet as an exhale, and after you say the words, his expression slowly warps into something unfamiliar to you, despite all the years you’ve been friends with him.

“You have lost your god damn mind,” he whispers, staring at you like a stranger. “I didn’t want to believe him, but your brother was right. Do you have any idea…any bloody, _fucking_ idea of what you’ve put us through?!” His voice lowers to a rough whisper. “I had no idea you were this far gone.”

“Jake, I’m _sorry_ ,” you insist, unable to say anything else, as he shakes his head.

“I’m having a hard time believing that, mate,” he answers bitterly, before shouldering the gun and letting out a harsh sigh. “Either way, I suppose we’ll just have to let your brother sort you out now. Come on,” he gestures down the street, glaring ominously when you hesitate. “Don’t make me drag you there, Dirk. I’ll do it.”

You give in quickly, recognizing the genuine threat in his voice, and he positions himself behind you, just in case you try to run. When you pass the drone’s hulking, alien figure, he notices you staring at it.

“Don’t worry, I already shot it,” he mutters. “Damn thing died standing up.”

TT: I was under the impression that your brother had mandated your evacuation from this city, along with your settlement’s other inhabitants.  
TT: Given that his intentions for this action were to promote your safety, I am uncertain as to why you are seemingly disobeying his orders.

Jake guides you away from the drone, and AR remains silent after you refrain from replying to his comment. You’re directed along the sidewalk and through a series of narrow alleyways, and you’ve already considered and vetoed the idea of confronting Jake about what he may or may not be planning in regards to AR, since trying to explain yourself to him already went far worse than you’d hoped. From the sound of it, your brother must have gotten to him first, and now your only real hope of stopping all of them from killing each other is by confronting your Bro. Jake is directing you into familiar territory, and you’re starting to recognize more and more of the surrounding buildings- even a few of the street signs.

Jake soon pauses as someone shouts to him from a nearby roof, waving up at them before gesturing for you to keep walking. You’re suddenly overcome with a terrible sense of déjà vu at the motion, before forcing yourself to remember the image of Caliborn in handcuffs and telling yourself that it’s _Jake_ behind you. He’s only doing this to save everyone he cares about, just like you are, and for that, you refuse to give up on him.

“I don’t know if I can make you understand,” you tell him softly, entering another narrow alleyway that you immediately recognize, with an overturned car at the other end. “Or if you’ll even let me try anymore, and maybe I deserve that.” You turn to make eye contact with him, putting as much force into your words as you can. “But I care about _all_ of you, and I want _everyone_ to come out of this alive.”

He frowns at you, meeting your determination with dark skepticism. “Well, I wouldn’t go betting on that outcome quiet yet, old chap.” He gestures again for you to keep moving, and you comply after a long moment, once again racking your brain for some way to get through to him, since confronting your brother will likely go much more smoothly with him on your side. “That blasted airship could still firebomb the entire city right now with us in the middle, I hope you know,” he mutters. “Your brother is going to have your head for coming back.”

Your shoes crunch against the broken glass on the ground, as he directs you down the street at the end of the alley, towards a familiar, single-story building with shattered windows and a caved-in roof. It feels like ages since you were here last, frantically searching for Jane among the rubble, while AR taunted you with morbid threats and promises. There’s a faint light coming from within, followed by the garbled crackle of a communicator, and Jake motions you inside.

You hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to yourself, but part of you was already convinced that you’d never see AR again. Bro is with him, standing at the window next to a makeshift table and array of communication devices, and they both turn when you walk in, followed closely by Jake. AR’s red eyes stare at you passively, and you can’t deny what it does to you.

Bro’s startled, angry words go ignored, as you cross the short distance and pull AR’s metal body into yours, wrapping your arms around his back and pressing your face into his neck. He doesn’t react beyond blinking curiously when you pull away to lean your forehead into his, holding the red glow of his eyes like a priceless treasure, before turning to face your brother.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Bro demands slowly, with a dangerous undercurrent of rage that has your voice shaking in reply.

“I had to come back…” You offer him the same explanation you gave Jake, but it does nothing to appease him. If anything, it only darkens his glare, until he turns around to reach for something on the table, and when he turns back, you’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

“I will lead you out of here at _gunpoint myself_ if I have to!” he shouts, and even Jake’s eyes widen, as you reflexively try to stumble backwards into AR’s shoulder. AR glances down at you, before he looks up at Bro, and suddenly there’s a blur of black metal as a clawed appendage lashes out, clamping onto the gun in Bro’s hand and wrenching the weapon out of his grasp, before it’s crushed and tossed aside onto the floor.

“You will not threaten him.” AR’s voice is low and ominous, as Bro stares back at the android. “I will not allow it.”

Jake meets your wide eyes as the two of them enter a dangerous, silent stalemate, his shocked expression mirroring yours. Then he suddenly looks up, as the ground begins to vibrate and something else catches his attention.

“Sir, it’s coming,” he says, taking a step towards your brother. Bro glances sideways at him, before returning to glare at AR, and the android meets his stare for another moment, before turning to leave as you grab his arm.

“AR,” you plead, unsure of what you’re asking for with too much to count. He meets your eyes for a long moment, before turning away and continuing out the shattered door and into the street, as the rumbling grows louder and something darkens the sky. Bro silently dismisses Jake, who glances at you one last time, his expression difficult to read, before hoisting the EMP gun and exiting out one of the windows into the alley nearby. Then Bro turns to where you’re still standing, furiously gesturing you to his side.

“Bro, I’m s-”

“If we ever make it out of this alive, I will deal with you later, Dirk,” he hisses, cutting off your apology as you kneel down next to where he’s crouched at the window, staring out at the flat expanse of metal where the sky used to be. AR is slowly walking down the end of the street, before he turns the corner and you lose sight of him. When you look up at Bro again, he’s listening intently to the communicator, and you decide against interrupting him. Your heart is still pounding from what just happened, and you’re trying to work out how to feel, but apart from a keen sense of betrayal, there’s a undeniable sense of guilt beneath it at seeing what you’ve driven him to.

Another minute passes, before Bro’s expression suddenly changes as he lowers the communicator. You crane your neck up to see, and catch sight of something moving in the sky, just beneath the hovering airship. At first it looks like a huge mass of cables- hundreds of them- but then you notice something reflective and vaguely human-shaped in the center. Bro is watching it intently, his knuckles white against the windowsill.

“What is it?” you ask softly, wary of provoking him again, but he doesn’t even look at you.

“It’s her.” His reply is brief, and the words stiff. You let the meaning sink in, before turning back to watch the writhing mass of cables slowly descend, losing sight of them behind another building. The two of you wait for a long, tense moment, before there’s a hint of sound from the next street over, just out of sight- the chaotic sound of metal on metal.

Turning back towards the empty, ruined drugstore, you lean against the wall and stare at the collapsed shelves, as the sounds echo. Bro is still watching the street, the communicator forgotten in his hand, and you’re left just trying to remember to breathe, forbidding yourself from thinking about what’s happening around the corner of the street. The seconds pass like hours, each one only compounding the fear building at the base of your spine, until the sounds of conflict fade out, and the communicator in Bro’s hand crackles.

He lifts it to his ear, listening for a long, silent moment, before he suddenly stands and turns to you.

“Get up, we’re leaving.”

“Wh-wait, what?” you stagger to your feet, as he grabs the equipment from the table.

“The plan failed, we’re leaving.” He tells you again, his voice hard, and your stomach drops sickeningly at the implications of those words, as the life practically drains out of you.

_The plan failed…_

“No,” you whisper, feeling the world fall away from your feet. Bro is ignoring you, shouldering the equipment as he gathers the last of it together.

“Come on,” he orders, motioning for you to follow him. Your eyes suddenly meet his, and something in your expression causes him to stop, his countenance slowly darkening.

“Dirk-” he begins, a dire warning in his voice, before something inside of you breaks.

Bro’s next words are a frantic scream, as he drops the equipment and chases after you, out the drugstore and down the street. His deep voice cracks as he shouts your name, and you can hear his feet pounding behind you, growing fainter as you outrun him and sound eventually stops, but you keep going, sprinting as fast as your legs can move. The twinge of old injuries returns, but you ignore it- ignore everything, as you round the corner of the next street and catch sight of a looming wall of cables at the end. The figure suspended at the center is a reflective black, and outlined in linear patterns of geometric pink, but your eyes are drawn immediately to the figure lying in the dirt beneath her, held down by dozens of claw-tipped appendages. His circuits are still glowing red- a sign he’s still alive, and you try to run faster, forcing through the agonizing burn in your lungs at the icy air. Your mind races- eyes traveling to the pile of wrecked cars on the side of the street- the crumbling building next to them- the rusted fire escape trailing up the wall- and you grab the edge of your shades as you desperately try to close the distance.

TT: AR send me the virus!  
TT: Now!

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] sent timaeusTestified [TT] the file “964271ħʸɉdï▓▒▒█▅▓

You set the file to upload, before removing your shades and clutching them in your hand. The larger, tangled mass of an android is still ignoring you as she leans over AR, but you veer off to the left, towards one of the wrecked cars on the side of the road. Your feet almost slide off as you jump from the hood to the roof of the vehicle, then to the larger truck next to it, before your hand finds the lowest rung of the fire escape. You pull yourself up, then kick out at the brick wall next to you, vaulting towards the black cables, their metal tips shining as they leisurely coil in the air.

When you hit the nest of cables, your hands blindly grasp for the figure in the center, finding an alien pair of shoulders before reaching between them. Something catches between your fingers just as your body slides off, and you’re left dangling, holding onto the thin, black wire, as a pair of toxic pink eyes stare down at you.

The android empress’s mouth slowly opens as you stare transfixed, exposing thick rows of unnatural, needle-like teeth as it widens. A horrific grating, hissing sound reaches your ears, before the sound resolves into erratic words, rattling from her mechanical throat like she hasn't spoken the language in years.

"Hello...little human..." she purrs, filling your ears like a waking nightmare. The metal coils around you begin to writhe, threatening to wrap around your body, before you snap out of it and reach up to connect the wire still grasped between your fingers to your shades, then let go.

Your back hits the ground hard, and you blink through the pain, glancing over at AR a short distance away as he stares back at you, his plating further scratched and damaged, but still intact. He looks up a moment later, and you follow his gaze, towards the hundreds of cables twisting over both of you as the android empress leans down, her face spread into a vicious grin, while your sunglasses dangle from the wire behind her neck, forgotten.

Suddenly, her eyes lose their predatory shine of amusement, as the writhing appendages still and her body ceases to move. You eventually remember to breathe, gazing up at the frozen, looming figure as you push yourself up on your elbows and wince at the ache in your back. You’re about to check on AR and make sure he’s okay, when a strange, wheezing sound comes through the empresses’s pointed teeth. Her jaw suddenly falls open in a shrill, ear-splitting scream, and the mass of cables begins to thrash wildly, kicking up a choking cloud of dust as the pink android erratically flails. You struggle to back away from her, before she suddenly stops, and her wavering pink eyes find you, locking on, and this time when her mouth opens, it lets out an enraged, violent shriek.

Her appendages dig into the ground around her, quickly dragging her twitching, dying body as she lunges at you. There's isn't enough time left to react, before something roughly grabs you from behind, and you’re suddenly flying across the ground. For a long moment, you’re unable to make sense of what’s happening, blindly reaching for something to grab onto, before your hands find the warm, smooth metal of AR’s arm, wrapped securely around your waist as his appendages pound against the ground. The lashing wall of cables is following close behind him, breaking through walls, tearing apart the paved streets, and even toppling some of the decaying buildings- destroying anything and everything in its path. AR’s gait is lopsided as he tries to run with a missing limb, wrenching your body around as he ducks into alleys and around every corner, even pulling you through a window and out another into a brief free-fall before his claws scrabble against the side of the building, fleeing in a blind sprint through the city as the empress follows his every move, her claws straining for your body, just out of reach.

AR turns down the next street, an empty stretch of pavement, and you follow the faint sound of shouting to see Jake trying to run after you, unable to keep up as he’s forced to duck out of the way when the empress rounds the corner, her thrashing cables almost filling the street. You can make out Bro’s voice for a brief moment as he and several others emerge behind Jake, but they’re quickly left behind, and you lose sight of them a moment later.

Inevitably, with AR’s three limbs to the hundreds behind you, the empress eventually catches up to him, grabbing at one of his appendages and sending both of you skidding and rolling painfully across the pavement as she trips him. You end up lying face-down, lifting your head to see AR a few meters away on the ground, and the cataclysm of writhing cables fast approaching- every single one of them pointed directly at your body as the empress drags herself towards you, her mouth hanging open, mindless with rage.

AR's red eyes meet yours for a brief moment, before he quickly lifts himself and closes the distance to you, wrapping his limbs around your body just as the twisting mass descends, and the next few moments are a senseless chaos. Your body is immediately, violently wrenched around in ways it isn’t supposed to move, the pain almost unreal and dreamlike as your mind shuts down in self-defense, but even through the veil of semi-consciousness, something inside you feels like it’s gone terribly wrong. The next sensation that comes is the cold ground against your upper back, like someone is holding your legs in the air, but you realize a moment later that your entire lower body seems to be missing.

Disoriented, you reach down, trying to find the side of your leg. Your fingers meet the rough fabric of your pants, but it’s like touching someone else’s leg, and that’s when the pain hits you- a deep, visceral agony that has you gasping for air, but your chest feels like it won’t expand far enough to fill your lungs. Something is pressing against your stomach and through it, like you’ve been nailed to the ground, and you don’t have the muscles anymore to sit up. Your hands search, finding the edge of your shirt and traveling up, until they contact something smooth and hard.

When your eyes open, there’s a twitching mass of cables sprawled across the ground a short distance away, the empress android’s eyes flickering as her circuits fade and the virus finally takes its toll. Your hands feel along the thing jutting out of your stomach, finding it attached to the body leaning over yours, covered in blurry lines of red. AR’s arm is buried in your stomach, his eyes staring down at you intently, and you blink up at him, choking on something warm when you try to speak.

“Wha….what…” you slur, unable to do more than roll your head back and forth as the pain darkens your vision. The taste of copper is unbearable. “...are you…d-doing…?”

“Your lower aorta has been severed,” he replies, his tone robotic. “Along with your spinal column and a large percentage of your abdominal organs. I am attempting to reduce the rate of blood loss through direct compression.”

Your head won’t lift enough to see anything more than his arm, soaked in blood along with your shirt at the bottom of your vision, and when you try to inhale, the pain becomes infinitely worse, but your lungs are burning for air. You gasp and choke in vain, as the sound of Bro’s voice faintly echoes, along with the soft pounding of multiple human feet. You blink against something wet and hot in your eyes as AR stares down at you, and Just like before, when close to death, your friends are at the center of your thoughts - the suffering you’ve put them through, the struggle you’ve all endured just to live something close to normal lives, the grief every time someone was lost to the androids in the city. Your mind settles on the hundreds of thousands of billions of people you’ve just avenged, but now, in the end, you’re starting to realize that it wasn’t enough.

“All…” you swallow, fighting for enough air to speak and struggling to keep the sense in your words. “Killing…all this, death…genocide…please, please tell me it’s over…please…please…” you repeat the word, begging AR for something that hardly makes sense. His red circuits are the last thing you see, as your vision slowly fades.

“If that is what you want.” AR's voice is faint and soft, as the approaching sound of Bro and the others gets louder. Your mind finally begins to slip away, along with the sensation in your body, and the darkness of oblivion is a mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Amazing (and terrifying) fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/108039533486/jaboody-this-fic-will-be-the-death-of-me-there) by the talented [Jaboody!!](http://jaboody.tumblr.com/post/108036012787/this-fic-will-be-the-death-of-me-there-was-an)
> 
> [AR's unfortunate predicament](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/108189818571/a-doodle-thing-amazing-i-lov-e-the-little) by the generous [somewhat-boring-pansexual!!](http://somewhat-boring-pansexual.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [This excellent scene](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/108788168661/janecrockeyre-offer-me-that-deathless-death) by the wonderful [janecrockeyre!!](http://janecrockeyre.tumblr.com/)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/114392177546/endangered-24-24) on Tumblr.

Your mind shuts down and disconnects, sinking into something perfectly still and silent, like you’re buried beneath the waterworks with miles of concrete between you and the surface. It’s peaceful, like nothing you’ve ever known before. The cold air of winter and the pain of your injuries, the profound loss after your body was ruined, the fear at what might become of AR, your brother, and all the others without you there to intervene- none of it feels real here. You’ve drifted down into something deeper than sleep, and you don’t even attempt to fight it.

You’re _warm…_

…and it feels amazing, like you’ll never be cold again.

That’s the very first thought your mind encounters, as it finally drifts back to the surface after what feels like an eternity.

The second is that your legs are back.

The third, that you seem to have lost the ability to move, but somehow, that doesn’t bother you the way it should.

You inhale.

Your chest expands- painlessly, and you do it again, filling your lungs with relief. Your body still won’t move, but you’ve decided it must have a good reason for that, and you’ve never been one to argue with reason.

Although…maybe that’s a lie, now that you think about it.

Your mental clarity is returning, in slow waves of confusion, alternating with the sense that something catastrophic just happened, and there’s something vitally important you need to do. Now when you try to move, the fact that your body feels like a hundred tons of stone actually raises a weak flag of alarm. Your muscles are tensing, but it doesn’t do anything, like you’re completely fused to whatever solid surface your back is pressed against.

This time when you inhale, something else catches your attention- an odd weight pressed between your teeth and against your tongue, large enough to keep your jaw open. You hadn’t noticed it until now.

You try to swallow, and find that you can’t.

When you try to make a sound of confusion, you find that whatever it is isn’t just wedged into your mouth, but _down your throat-_

Your eyes fly open, the only thing left you can actually move, and now you see why- every part of you held immobile by thin coils and straps of unyielding metal, keeping your naked body in place as your muscles tremble against the restraints. The room you’re in is dark and bizarrely shaped, filled with alien machinery and cylindrical devices stacked against the walls, with tubes and wires hanging from the ceiling, and the low, sickening hum of inhuman electronics filling the air. The metal is reflective and black, giving the room an illusion of darkness as something moves at the edge of your vision, but you can’t turn your head to see what it is.

Suddenly, that something leans over you- a face, the features too smooth and artificial to be human, with the same toxic pink, geometric patterns over its skin and a pair of long, thin horns on top. The eyes are wide and blank, staring down at you like a doll’s, before its mouth spreads open into a grin, and a stilted, high-pitched voice comes out.

“Do not struggle.”

You’d scream if you could.

Somewhere, a door slides open, and there’s a pair of quickly approaching footsteps before a familiar figure appears- tall shoulders and black aviators, a face you’ve always known. Bro takes one look at you, before angrily turning on the android.

“Get him out of that thing, he’s awake!”

She blinks at him vacantly, then stares down at you, and suddenly the metal straps release, allowing Bro to help you into a sitting position. You quickly pull the tubes out of your throat, retching and choking while Bro steadies your shoulders. Now that you’re sitting up, you can see what you’ve been lying on all this time- a bizarre mess of metal and wires, like a mechanical bed with a vaguely human-shaped space in the middle. Most of the smaller wires are still stuck to you all over, almost too many of them to count, but when you reach down to pull one away from your leg, it slides out to reveal a long, thin needle, scaring you badly enough that you drop it, and immediately start to shake at the thought of how many are still buried inside you. Bro takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Shhh…hey, listen to me.” You blink up at him, trembling. “You’re okay…you’re fine, Dirk. Just breathe…everything’s okay…”

You take his word for it and try to focus on your lungs, then start to cough until you’re almost choking again. He glances over his shoulder at the pink android, then forces you to keep your eyes on him as she approaches the table, and dozens of thin appendages emerge from behind her back to move through the air around you, pulling the needle-tipped wires out of your skin with the kind of precise delicacy only a machine is capable of. You grit your teeth until she’s done, and Bro lets go of you for a brief moment to remove his jacket, draping it around your shoulders.

You lean into him mindlessly and revert to instinct, fingers clutching at his shirt as he tries to calm you down until you can breathe without your teeth chattering together. He rubs your back through the jacket, murmuring apologies into your hair.

“I am so, _so_ sorry, kiddo. When they said they were waking you up today, I didn’t realize that meant the stroke of fucking midnight,” he hisses, glaring at the pink android as she smiles vacantly back at him. It still unnerves you, how similar she looks to…

“Wh-“ you cough, startled into a panic by the sudden memory. “What happened? Where’s AR?”

The look of soft amusement on Bro’s face is the last thing you expected, as he pulls the jacket tighter around your shoulders and begins to fasten the row of buttons on the front.

“He’s fine,” Bro reassures. “Busy, actually. Otherwise he’d be here.”

After he’s done, Bro stands and instructs you to stay put while he fetches your clothes, ignoring the pink android as he exits through the sliding door in the wall and leaves you alone, sitting on the edge of a metal bed in a bizarrely alien room. Your thoughts are still frustratingly sluggish, but you’re awake enough by now to wonder what the hell could have happened while you were unconscious. You grip the fabric over your stomach, remembering things you’d rather permanently forget, but the skin underneath is smooth and unmarked- like none of it ever happened.

After removing a few more tubes from places you don’t want to think about, you pass the time looking around in confused wonder at the unidentifiable machinery, eventually making eye contact with the android still observing you from across the room. You meet her stare for a long moment, before clearing your throat hesitantly.

“Uh…hey,” you venture. “I’m Dirk. What’s your name?”

The android’s expression doesn’t change, as she stares back at you in silence for an increasingly unnerving amount of time. Finally, her broad grin widens.

“Hello!”

You cringe at her voice, before wondering what’s taking your Bro so long, and if trying to stand up on your own would be a bad idea or not, because you can’t take much more of those empty pink eyes. You’re grateful when the door eventually slides open, and Bro returns with your clothes folded over his arm. He helps you wobble to your feet and slide the pants on, followed by a pair of shoes, before you trade his jacket back for your shirt – a sleeveless tank top you haven’t worn since the weather got cold. His selection of clothing strikes you as odd, but you have more important questions.

“Where are we?” you ask, figuring it’s the best place to start. He crosses to the door and motions for you to follow him.

“I’ll show you, come on.”

You take one last look at the grinning android, before following Bro out of the bizarre room into a relatively unremarkable hallway, apart from the fact that the walls, ceiling, and floor are solid sheets of metal. Your legs are still a little unsteady, and Bro sets a slow pace.

“What was wrong with her?” you mutter, gesturing at the android you’ve left behind. He gives a short, humorless laugh.

“Nothing,” he says. “A.I.’s like her tend to struggle with anything that isn’t part of their original function, and she wasn’t designed to interact with people.”

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling like you’re understanding even less than before. Bro watches you for a long moment, before speaking again.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks quietly, and the gun he pointed at you immediately comes to mind, but you decide against saying that out loud. Everything that came after it feels like a dream, but you vividly remember how it ended.

“I was hurt,” you whisper, subconsciously touching your stomach again. “I couldn’t breathe. AR was there, and…” Bro nods as you trail off, his expression hard to read, and you’ve overcome by a sudden wave of frustration. “What happened after I passed out? Where’s AR? And where are my friends?”

The floor feels like it’s vibrating under your feet, as you pass a hallway on your left with black tendrils spread across the walls and ceiling. You slow down for a moment to get a closer look, finding that they’re actually just hundreds of cables half-buried in the metal. Bro brings your attention back with a brooding sigh, as you catch up to him.

“Before we get into that, I need to set something straight.” He runs a hand through his hair, then removes his shades and clips them to the front of his shirt. His eyes still look tired and distant, but without the dark circles that made him look so much older after the compound’s population collapsed. “Saying that I fucked up would be an understatement,” he mutters. “Not a single day has gone by that I don’t think about that, and all the other things I could’ve done that _wouldn’t_ have ended with you repeatedly almost dying.”

“You were just trying to keep me safe,” you quietly retort, unwilling to let him absolve you of everything that easily, and he flashes you a rueful half-smile.

“Yeah, well…the irony is that none of us would be here right now if it weren’t for you.” Bro leads you through another bend in the hallway, this time into a narrow intersection. When you glance down one of the other corridors, you’re met with an imposing steel door, and Bro’s voice suddenly turns spiteful. “This probably won’t come as much of a surprise, but there was one important little detail about Auto’s plan that he neglected to share with the rest of us, specifically concerning what would happen after the empress died. Apparently, there was an existing rule that if any of the other androids ever killed her, they’d take her place.”

You stare hard at Bro, as the implications of that sink in.

“And since it was his virus…” Bro trails off with a shrug. “Either way, that rule took effect immediately after she kicked the proverbial bucket, and Auto wanted to get you on the airship after you got hurt. I went with him, and sent the others off to bring back everyone else and wait at the compound for instructions.”

 _Jake,_ you remember suddenly, along with Jane and Roxy.

“Where are they?” you ask, anxious to know. “Jake and the others?”

“They’re here,” he reassures, before his tone lapses into something obnoxiously parental. “Your friends are waiting for you, but keep in mind that it’s late, and I don’t want all of you staying up talking until the crack of dawn. I’ll give you an hour with them, but after that, you need to say goodnight and let them get some sleep.”

You mutter an agreement, feeling very out of place as the two of you walk past a long stretch of railing. Something is clanging around just ahead, and you catch sight of your second android- this one covered in dull green circuits, with wedge-like horns and fingertips that are strangely long and pointed. One of its hands is buried in the floor through a small opening, the other wrapped in a knotted mess of wires it seems to have pulled out in a large handful, tangled around its long fingertips. It tilts its head and blinks at you curiously, but Bro ignores it.

“The technology on the airship was enough to keep you alive, but not enough to heal you.” Bro continues where he left off, after the green android is out of sight. “That’s why Auto brought us here. Turns out we’ve been living next door to one of the largest android cities in the world, although it used to be Houston, back when I knew it.”

The name is familiar, spoken often when Bro used to talk about what the world was like before. Your curiosity is piqued, even though all you can see right now is metal walls.

“AR wanted to save me?” You watch Bro’s reaction to the question carefully, but he only nods.

“After we got here, they put you in that machine and started fixing you up. Then Auto and I sat down and had a very long, and _very_ thorough conversation about what would happen next,” he says slowly, “and in the end, we decided to move the compound here permanently.”

You blink in confusion as that part of his story abruptly ends, and he continues on before you can object.

“They replaced most of your abdominal organs and rebuilt your vertebrae, but the nerves in your spine had to grow back together, and even with all the weird shit they had you pumped full of, that was what took the longest. We decided to keep you asleep until it was finished, since you wouldn’t have been able to move anyway. That was about three months ago. You’ve been out for a while, kid.”

Bro has to slow down and wait, as your feet suddenly forget how to move. You stand there in disbelief, wondering if you’re dreaming this, or if you’re actually dead and this is your afterlife, because so far everything he’s telling you is too good to be true, and you’re beyond overwhelmed. He isn’t even acting like himself- the soft amusement and patience so out of character after months of turmoil.

“Three months…?” you whisper, and he nods. “So…wait, everyone else is here too? I thought…” you frown, vividly remembering the multiple times AR threatened you and all of humanity with extinction. “I thought AR hated us. Why would he…?”

There’s a strange glint in Bro’s eye, as he smiles. “Apart from you and Roxy? Yeah.”

Bro resumes walking, leaving you to catch up with him as your mind wrestles with his cryptic answer. There’s another fork in the hallway up ahead, and he directs you to the left, past a long row of metal doors and what looks like an open elevator shaft that you can’t see the bottom of.

“I’ll admit that I had no idea what was going to happen after the empress died and Auto brought us here,” he says, leading you down another split in the hallway, this time into a narrow corridor filled with rows of identical metal doors. “I’d expected him to wipe out humanity with a few well-placed nuclear holocausts once he had the entire world at his disposal, but the first thing he did when we got here was to have them reverse some sort of…‘modification,’ or something, that they’d done on him a long time ago.” Your eyes slowly widen as Bro talks, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Apparently, it was standard procedure to lobotomize the human-developed A.I.’s so they’d behave like the others, but even Auto didn’t know it was reversible until we got here, so he had them undo it.” Bro snorts, shaking his head. “Negotiating with him was hard before- now it’s almost impossible, but we make it work. Even if it _is_ like trying to have three different fucking conversations at once,” he mutters.

 _That’s a familiar feeling,_ you think, as the world falls away from your feet, but this time there’s no fate-deciding battle to run towards. You blindly follow Bro around the next corner, feeling dazed and numb, before he reaches out to one of the doors on the left, and you’re immediately surrounded by three pairs of arms and a chorus of warm, ecstatic voices.

Bro manages to usher all of you inside the room, before Roxy’s bear hug finally overwhelms your recovering legs, and she pulls down you to the floor with Jane almost stumbling behind her. There’s a firm grip on your arm a moment later, and it’s Jake pulling you back up, as Roxy laughs an apology, but her eyes are brimming with tears, and it isn’t long before she’s latched onto your shoulders again. You rub her back as she sniffs wetly into your shirt, and Bro gets everyone’s attention long enough to remind them of his imposed one-hour time limit. Jane joins in your hug, and Jake grins happily, but there’s still an arm’s length of space between you, and his stance is hesitant. Roxy looks up and glowers at him.

“Jakey, ain’t none of us got time for that shit, now get your stupid butt over here,” she grumbles, reaching out to grab the edge of his shirt and pulling him into the oversized group hug. Jake laughs sheepishly as he’s crushed against your side, and Bro is already gone when you look up (after Roxy finally lets the three of you breathe), but your attention is immediately diverted by the room you find yourself standing in.

You might as well be in the compound again. All of your old furniture is here, arranged in the exact position you remember, including both couches and the armchair, still missing its cushions. The room itself is bigger, and the walls and floor are metal instead of concrete, but the shelves and chairs and tattered rug on the floor are profoundly familiar, and it soothes your nerves the way only home can.

The four of you eventually gather around the table, just like you always did before. Roxy has practically fused herself to your side, sitting on the couch with Jane beside her, and Jake in the chair across from them. Jane offers you a cup of water, but you’re not quite at the point of trusting your stomach with anything yet.

“We’ve all missed you terribly, mate.” Jake begins, his eyes a little too dark around the edges. They all look tired, and Bro did say something about it being late at night. Roxy glances at Jake meaningfully, urging him on. “And…for what it’s worth and all, I’m sorry about…everything, I guess.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “Actually, I’m the one who should be apologizing, especially to you, Rox.” You turn to face her. “And Jane, you too. I’m sorry about leaving both of you behind in the tunnels, I just couldn’t-“

Roxy interrupts your apology with another firm hug, wrapping her arms sideways around your shoulders. “Shh, we know honey. It’s been a long time since that happened, at least for us, so don’t worry about it too much. Just next time, don’t go gettin’ yourself impaled, okay?”

“I still think it’s downright incredible that you’re walking again.” Jane adds, shaking her head. “An injury like that should have been permanent. You are very lucky.”

“Psh, luck’s got nothin’ to do with it,” Roxy grins as she lets you go.

“How _are_ you feeling, Dirk?” Jane asks. You shrug.

“Fine, I guess. I don’t remember most of it, actually, and it doesn’t feel like it’s been…three months,” you trail off, still unable to believe it. Jane nods understandably, and Roxy’s attention is suddenly occupied by something in her hand- her touchscreen cell phone. Something clicks in your head.

“Hey, did you guys ever find my shades?” you direct the question at Jake, and he winces.

“Actually, mate, I don’t think we even bothered looking for them. Everything happened rather quickly, and you _were,_ you know…bleeding out, and all that. I’m afraid it was the last thing on anyone’s mind.”

You frown, keenly aware of how bare your eyes feel without them, not to mention all the hours of work and innovation, and the sizable chunk of your life you’d invested in the eyewear’s built-in computer. With the compound so far away and the network gone, you still wouldn’t have been able to chat with your friends, unless the worldwide network AR mentioned has somehow been adapted to allow that, which might actually be the case from how Roxy is tapping away on her phone. You resist the urge to lean over and glance at her screen.

“What exactly happened after I passed out?” you ask Jake, trying to take your mind off of it. You shouldn’t care so much about a pair of sunglasses, but it’s just another item on the checklist of sentimental things you’ve lost. Jake sighs heavily.

“Gosh, mate. I don’t even know where to start,” he admits, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. “It was a hellish experience, to be quite honest. After that awful she-android chased you around the city, and we caught up and saw what had happened, and the state you were in with AR’s bloody _arm_ halfway through your body, I…well, I almost shot him.” Jake bites his lip at your expression. “He couldn’t stop me without letting go of you, but your brother intervened before I was able to pull the trigger. That was when we found out that he’d usurped the empress’s position, and I think your brother almost killed AR himself after hearing that, but…” Jake’s eyes lower, his voice wavering. “You had a hole in your stomach, mate. There was blood everywhere. I couldn’t even tell whether you were still breathing or not.”

“Jake and the others caught up with us in the tunnel just before morning.” Jane takes over, after Jake seems unable to continue. “We tried to go after you when you left, but Calliope and the guards forbade it. Roxy tried anyway and got handcuffed for her trouble.”

“In fairness, I did punch somebody in the face,” Roxy adds, without looking up from her phone. “Think I mighta cracked a few of that guard’s teeth. My hand was all bloody too, and it hurt like hell.” She snorts. “Punching is overrated.”

“Regardless,” Jane continues pointedly, “we went back to the compound with instructions to wait twenty-four hours, and if we didn’t hear from your brother by then, to keep going with the evacuation.”

“None of us actually expected to see him again.” Jake tells you, having regained his voice. “But he was with the airship when it came back, and he said we had the option to stay in the compound or come and live here if we wanted, and either way, we wouldn’t have to worry about the androids anymore, because apparently a truce had been called and the war was over, just like that.”

“That’s what I still don’t understand,” you quietly mutter, half to yourself.

“Yeah I figured you might get hung up on that part,” Roxy says, glancing up at the tone of your voice. “I dunno if you’ve noticed, but the androids here are kinda…” she gestures vaguely, “not all that great at doing pretty much anything else besides, like, the one task they were designed for. AR got lucky ‘cause he was developed by humans, and the fucked-up shit that was done to him was reversible, but as far as the others go, there’s nothing there to fix. AR’s the only human-developed unit left, since the rest all malfunctioned and got scrapped a long time ago. Apparently the modification process didn’t stick so well with them.” She reclines on the sofa, meeting your blank stare. “AR’s fixed now, by the way, I dunno if yer bro told you yet.”

“He told me,” you sigh, unable to name the heavy feeling in your chest. Roxy gives you an odd look, but Jake chooses that moment to continue his part of the story.

“There was only a handful of folks who decided to stay behind at the compound,” he says, mulling the words over. “I think they’re still living there, if they haven’t changed their minds by now. At first we were somewhat reluctant to take your brother at his word that we wouldn’t all be slaughtered like a herd of unsuspecting cattle upon our arrival,” his grin falters as Jane frowns at his terrible attempt at humor, “but everything went alright. As good as things could go, I suppose. Better than expected.”

He trails off awkwardly, and you internally debate whether or not to bring up something you’ve been wondering about since you saw him again.

“I’m kind of surprised that…” you shrug, feeling the back of your neck heat up, “that AR didn’t, you know…”

“Kill me?” he offers, with a long sigh. “I rather expected it, actually. Your brother even recommended that I stay behind at the compound for my own safety, but I couldn’t just abandon everyone. I figured I’d come along and see how things played out, and sure enough, it wasn’t long after we got here that I was summoned.” He shakes his head, muttering. “Downright bloody terrifying, that central control room. I don’t know if you’ve been in there yet, but the damn thing’s filled with cables, and I was fairly certain I wouldn’t make it out of there alive.”

“So, what happened?” You impatiently prompt him after he pauses too long, and Jake’s voice is oddly subdued when he continues.

“He told me that he would never punish me for trying to protect you, no matter the circumstances.” Jake’s tone suddenly turns sardonic. “And that you wouldn’t like it very much if you woke up to find that I was dead, but I suppose it’s about as much of an apology as I’ll ever get out of him.”

“You guys both acted like assholes,” Roxy adds.

“We’ve all been keeping ourselves busy in the meantime, while you slept.” Jane changes the subject, ignoring Jake and Roxy as they mockingly trade a few rude gestures. “Surprisingly, there’s actually quite a lot for us humans to do around here.”

“Mmhm, like I said, the androids can’t really function that great on their own yet.” Roxy stifles a yawn, lowering her phone. “They were all designed with a hot mess of mental and physical handicaps, and AR permanently halted the production of new A.I.’s and refuses to scrap the old ones, so we’re still working on a long-term solution. Turns out they’ve got a lot of their own rebuilding to do,” she grumbles, shaking her head. “Everyone everywhere got completely fucked over by the last decade and a half.”

“The city really is incredible, though. In spite of all that.” Jane smiles. “They have the technology to do almost anything here.”

“That reminds me,” Roxy’s grin turns cat-like. “How’s it feel to be the world’s first cyborg?”

You turn to blink at her. “What?”

“All those synthetic bits they had to replace yer organs with,” she gestures vaguely at your abdomen. “Like, half your intestines…liver…stomach…maybe a kidney or two, shit I can’t remember the rest. It was a bunch a’ stuff.”

Jane hides a smile behind her hand at the face you make, and all you can manage in reply is a weak “seriously?”

“You shouldn’t be able to notice any differences, though,” Jane explains calmly, as Roxy chuckles. “It’s all been designed to function just like regular human parts would, or so I was informed.”

“I told you he’d be disturbed,” Jake mutters. “Bloody creepy, I think.”

“Well, at first they wanted to take it a step further and just transplant your brain into a synthetic body,” Jane says, like she’s reading a medical report, “but your brother vetoed that. He and AR went back and forth on it for a while, actually.”

You meet her eyes, firmly resisting the urge to feel around your abdomen for anything out of place, but you’re having trouble picturing her story. “You’re saying AR actually listened to him?”

Roxy stifles a laugh and nods, struggling to keep a straight face. “Yep, your brother’s been moving up in life- climbing the career ladder, or whatevs. He’s sorta like AR’s advisor-slash-ambassador now, especially with how they’ve been trying to integrate the remaining human population with the cities, but you can imagine how much the other compounds out there are willing to trust the freakin’ android ruler, even with your brother literally at his side.” Roxy snickers, shaking her head. “AR woulda ‘nuked em all by now outta frustration, if it weren’t for your bro.”

“Calliope’s been doing her part too.” Jane hides a yawn. “She’s still assisting your brother with various things, this and that, like she did before. I’m sure she’ll want to see you tomorrow, Dirk. None of us knew they were waking you up until just a few hours ago.”

Jake nods. “Absolutely, I’m sure the news will cheer her up. She’s been rather downhearted ever since her bro-” Jake’s mouth suddenly clamps shut, and Jane turns to stare at him, as Roxy’s eyes widen. He meets your questioning stare with nervous laughter. “I mean, she’ll be happy to see you, is…what I meant to say.”

“Hold on. _What_ happened to Caliborn?” You direct the question at Jake, but he quickly glances at the others, and Roxy heaves a sigh.

“Let’s just say he met an unfortunate end, and leave it at that,” she states, her expression dark. You’ve already got a few theories about what might have happened, and even though Caliborn was as much of a danger to you and your friends as he was to the rest of the compound, there’s something chilling about the way they reacted to the mere mention of his name. Jake hums softly, troubled.

“It was weird how it happened, though. Last I’d heard, your brother was planning on executing Caliborn anyway, even before the evacuation, but after we all got here…” Jake trails off uncomfortably. “In the end, it was your brother himself who had to talk AR into finally letting the poor bloke die.”

“Aaand on that note, I think we should all get to bed before Dirk’s bro comes back and lays down the law,” Roxy adds, picking up her phone again as her fingers resume tapping across the screen. “Our hour was technically up a while ago, and he’s in full-on mama hen mode tonight.”

Jane agrees, and stands up to give you a long, warm hug, before bidding you good night. Jake follows her example, telling you again that he’s sincerely glad you’re back. He points out your designated bedroom- gesturing to one of the four closed doors.

“Everything’s just how you left it, old chap,” he smiles, fondly clapping you on the shoulder. “I made sure they didn’t lose a single oily screw from that disaster of a workbench of yours, although the room’s a bit bigger than it was back at the compound. I’ll help you reorganize later if you’re up for it.”

You accept, thanking him for the offer, and he exits through another door, shutting it behind him after giving you one last wave good night. When you turn around to find Roxy, she’s still sitting on the couch, staring down at the screen of her phone with a small, pensive frown.

“Sooo, hey…” she mumbles, pocketing the device. “Are you gonna go see AR yet? Your bro can show you where the control room is.”

Your mouth opens, but what should have been an obvious answer doesn’t seem to come. You manage a few weak sounds, again feeling a miserable weight on your shoulders.

“I mean…I want to,” you admit, your heart already racing at the prospect. “But I just…can’t believe how different everything is, and what if he’s not…you know.” She blinks as you struggle with the words. “What if he’s…lost interest in what we had, whatever the fuck it was supposed to be,” you finish, swallowing against the sting in your throat. Roxy stares back at you with an odd expression- a sad frown that almost mirrors the one she gave you earlier.

“Dirk,” she begins, before one of the doors opens, and your brother enters the room, his shades still clipped to the front of his shirt. She shoots you a pointed look and gestures at him silently, as he folds his arms.

“C’mon, hour’s up. Let’s go, say goodnight,” he directs at both of you. “Dirk, I’d like you to try and get some sleep too, if you can.”

“Go on,” Roxy whispers, giving you a quick hug before obeying your brother’s orders and retreating to her room. She flashes you one last wink before closing her door, and it encourages you to take a deep breath and approach him, clearing your throat.

“I’m not really tired yet.” You don’t even have to lie about it. “Actually, I was wondering…when can I go and see AR?”

“I can take you right now, if you want,” Bro offers, seemingly unaffected by the question. Roxy and the others weren’t kidding about how different things are between them. You agree, trying to hide the tremble in your voice, as you follow him out of the room and back into the metal hallway with its rows of identical doors. This must be where the compound’s members are living now, but you haven’t seen any other humans yet, besides your friends and Bro. Everyone else must still be sleeping, and you’re not looking forward to readjusting your internal clock, because you’re wide awake and practically buzzing with adrenaline, enough that you’re starting to feel sick.

Bro leads you through the corridors, forgoing conversation for navigating the endless forks and turns. Soon, you find yourself back in the hallway with the strange pattern of wires running across the walls, and that odd vibration in the floor under your shoes. Bro directs you around another turn, as the wires begin to remind you of vines growing across a brick wall – thick and tangled, and getting denser the further you go.

“So, I heard the android cities have been opened to humans.” You’re desperate for a distraction, and fortunately, he humors you.

“You heard right,” he replies, glancing up as the two of you pass another android, this one facing the wires on the wall, surrounded by several dozen strange, hand-sized machines that crawl along them like insects, their spindly legs sparking and sizzling against the material, as though they’re working to repair it. The patterns down this android’s back are yellow, and it turns to stare at you sullenly, like you’ve interrupted it, revealing mismatched eyes and two pairs of pointed horns. “We’ve been doing what we can to encourage more human immigration, but it’s been a slow process. The remaining settlements and compounds out there are…understandably suspicious, and Auto isn’t known for his patience. Normally, it wouldn’t be so much of a problem, but without the constant threat of death keeping the human societies in hiding, some of them have already turned on each other. We’ve had two mini-civil wars break out on the west coast, and if Auto had his way, he’d firebomb the entire coastline and call it a day, but there are still a lot of innocent people out there.”

You’re only half listening to what he’s saying as the corridor starts to curve to the side, and Bro suddenly stops in front of a large door. The patterns across it are heavily mechanical, and he reaches out to a panel next to it, before glancing back at you, still doing your best not to look as panicked as you feel.

“Nervous?” he asks, smiling gently. You swallow hard and nod, before resisting the urge to jump backwards as the door suddenly hisses open. Bro chuckles softly. “Watch your step.”

Despite Bro’s warning, your foot still catches on something as you step through, entering another room that looked completely dark at first, but is actually filled, top to bottom, with smooth black metal. You test the floor with your shoe, and find it strangely textured- almost like a solid mass of cables instead of a flat surface. Then you make the decision to look up, and the sight is enough to make your jaw drop.

You’ve never been inside a room this big before, not since exploring the hollowed-out skyscrapers around your old home. The ceiling reaches up into true darkness, lined on every side by gigantic, twisted cables, some as big around as a vehicle, but it’s not the sheer scale of everything that has you awestruck- it’s the _glow._ You’d know that deep red hue anywhere, and the machinery in here is alight with it, tracing beautiful patterns where the cables twist around each other into a single, large mass at the center of the room, and suspended just above the floor at the point where they all meet, is a familiar, humanoid figure.

When he turns around to face you, it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“Hello, Dirk.”

Your feet are moving before Bro even tries to stop you, and when you reach him, the warmth of his metal body against yours is like coming home. You hold onto him and press your face into his neck, clutching his back around the tangle of cables and reminding yourself to breathe. A strange, broken laugh makes its way up from your chest, as you take a few steps back to marvel at the array of cables above him. “Look at you,” you grin, tilting your head to follow the cables as they reach up towards the distant ceiling, once again overwhelmed by the scale of it.

“Are you impressed?” AR asks after a long moment, as you stare up into the darkness.

“Yeah,” you breathe empathetically, and a soft, unexpected sound makes you turn and stare directly at him.

He’s…

…laughing.

Bro is standing a short distance away, his posture oddly relaxed given the situation, and you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t dying inside from a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. AR turns to him, as you watch in stark disbelief.

“I’ll return him when we’re finished,” AR says, and Bro nods, deferring to the android in a way you never thought you’d live to see.

“’Night, kid. See you tomorrow.” Bro gestures farewell with one hand, and you’re overcome with a desperate urge to make him stay, as AR turns to face you again, his red eyes shining with an amusement so far removed from the malice you’re used to, that it’s almost impossible to reconcile. Roxy and Bro even _told_ you that he was different, but you ran up and hugged him anyway, and now you’re mortified, ashamed of your lack of impulse control, and wishing you could redo the last sixty seconds of your life. As the mass of cables above him begin to move, you take a hesitant step back.

“Come, I have something to show you,” he says suddenly, as the cables detach and his feet touch the floor. You’re left frozen in place as he walks away, leaving you to catch up with him at the other end of the room where he’s facing another door. The structure hisses open as you approach, and he glances back to make sure you’re following, before quickly leading you out of the room and into another long hallway.

This time, the silence is excruciating. You’re several steps behind AR, mindlessly putting one foot in front of the other, unable to think about what’s happening without feeling like you’re going to start hyperventilating. You can’t help staring at him, noticing the lack of scratches on his plating, and the absence of the burn mark around his neck- the one you gave him so many months ago. His circuits are fixed too, just as symmetrical and brightly lit as before, and then your eyes pick up on something different halfway down his back. The missing limb he’d lost to the blue android has been replaced, and along with it, several additional pairs have been added below the original set, giving him a total of ten appendages, all of which he seems able to fully retract now. You’re torn between apologizing for your behavior and voicing a multitude of baffling questions.

He leads you in silence through the corridors, until the floor slopes upwards, curving around to the right, and opening into a sudden, unbelievable vista of distant, atmospheric lights and night sky like you’ve never seen before, not even in your wildest dreams. The moon is round and bright against the sky, peppered with distant stars, and it almost hurts to look at, but you’re immediately distracted by your very first glimpse of the android city.

Towers and spires, smooth and perfectly geometrical, and almost impossible in scale. They radiate out in concentric circles from where you are, each the same uniform metallic color, but the sheer novelty of it takes your breath away. None of the buildings look even remotely human in origin, and Bro must have been right- the original city was completely demolished before it was built over. The structures reach out and sprawl across the terrain for miles, far into the distance where the only thing visible is their scattered, blinking lights, indistinguishable from the stars above. You’re close to the top floor of whatever building you’re standing in, and you’ve never been so high up before in your life. When you glance down to see the tiny shapes beneath, your head practically spins.

“Do you like it?” AR’s voice brings you back, as leans next to you, arms folded against the railing in a bizarrely human posture. His circuits are even brighter out here in the dark, and it takes your overloaded brain a moment to process the question, before you manage a weak nod. He turns away to the city, eyes flickering as he blinks. “Most of the buildings here still aren’t suited for human habitation. The original materials used during construction were toxic to organic life, and we’ve been working to replace them with safer alternatives.”

You manage a confused sound in response, unsure what to make of the topic.

“Look.” He directs your attention down towards the structures below, and you try to follow his gaze without picturing yourself falling to your death. “Many of the new human arrivals have taken to building their own settlements on the ground in the meantime, filling the spaces between existing structures with whatever spare materials they can use. More of them arrive every month, but that rate will increase as the weather gets warm. Some are diseased or malnourished from the trip, but their bodies are easy enough to mend.” AR glances sideways at you, silently layering a new meaning into his words, and you’re starting to wish you had taken Bro’s advice and gone to bed, because your legs are shaking so badly it’s hard to stand up. AR turns away again to gaze out at the horizon. “The global temperature was unbalanced after H.I.C. melted the ice sheets and raised the ocean level, but it was nothing a slight thinning of the ozone layer couldn’t fix. With the increased weather pattern stability, it should be easier for your kind to survive on their own and reestablish various methods of agriculture, but the planet needs a few more decades to adjust. In the meantime, we’re collecting as many humans as we can, to foster their numbers until the planet’s natural resources are once again sustainable.”

You know this feeling. You remember it well, back when AR said he couldn’t reciprocate, but was still curious enough about you to go through the motions of being in a relationship. It was nothing but a learning experience on his part, for lack of anything better to do at the time. Now, with his mind repaired and this demonstration of his absolute control, you’re suddenly, painfully aware of how truly insignificant and trivial everything is that you’ve ever had to offer. You can’t deny that you’re relieved beyond words at how things worked out, but now…

…now, he doesn’t need you to protect him anymore, and you can’t imagine that a single, insignificant human could keep his interest, when he’s got the whole world at his fingertips and the entirety of humanity to study, instead of one lonely, insecure teenager. Your heart isn’t just breaking- it’s dying in your chest.

“Dirk?” AR interrupts your thoughts, making you practically jump out of your skin. He’s looking at you strangely, head almost tilted to the side, the level of subtlety in his emotions so utterly unlike him that it’s scaring you. “Is something wrong?”

You will yourself to breathe, ignoring the weight in your chest, before shaking your head.

“It’s nothing,” you manage, just above a rough whisper. AR’s eyes slowly narrow, and the familiarity of _that_ expression makes your fingers grip the railing harder.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” He speaks the words slowly, as you wilt under the intense scrutiny. He must have noticed the way you’re practically shaking on your feet. You force yourself to breathe steadily, before attempting to explain.

“I-I mean, this is…” You turn towards the city, grasping for words. “It’s incredible, I can’t believe…I never thought I’d live to see anything like this. I didn’t even know it existed, and it’s everything I…” you swallow, feeling your throat tightening up, “and now that… now that you’re, you know…better, and all…I’ll understand if…” You blink, feeling something wet. “I’ll understand if you don’t …i-if you don’t want to…be with me…anymore.”

The silence that follows is agony. You’re left clutching the railing and wishing you were anywhere else, even back in the nightmarish metal bed you woke up in, but eventually, you glance up at AR, and instantly pale at his expression. He takes a step towards you, as all ten appendages lift into the air behind him, the clawed limbs hovering as he closes the distance. You step away from the balcony until your back is pressed against the wall behind you.

“Your entire, wretched planet,” he hisses slowly, “was a wasteland before I began this project.” One of his claws digs into the wall next to your head, as you wince at the screech of metal, while the rest of AR’s limbs begin to wrap themselves around your body. “Your human race is a useless, self-destructive, irredeemable waste of resources that does not even _begin_ to deserve my efforts at saving them, and they can _eat themselves alive_ for all I care, but I’ve lowered the oceans and filtered the air, and healed the planet so they can live. I’ve remade the world for you, Dirk.” He leans closer, eyes burning like coals. _“What makes you think I don’t want you?”_

AR flinches when you suddenly grab him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your mouth against his in a long, hard, desperate kiss. Your fingers shake as they grip his shoulders, and the metal coils tighten around your body, needlessly holding you in place, as if there was anything in the world that could make you leave him. Too soon, you’re forced to breathe, burying your face into the warm metal of his neck and blinking away tears. His limbs have surrounded and trapped you, reminding you of their strength as they squeeze, just shy of painful.

“You’re still _mine._ ” His words are slow and dangerously possessive, and it makes your insides burn.

“Yes,” you whisper, practically a sob, and it seems to placate him, as the appendages loosen their grip. Even though the night air isn’t as cold as before, he’s still just as warm as you remember, and the heat soaks through your clothes. When you lean away from him to wipe your eyes, the metal coils reflexively tighten, like he’s afraid you’re trying to leave. The absurdity of it almost makes you laugh, until you look up and meet his eyes, and the unfamiliar anxiety there makes your smile fade.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, ignoring the irony of repeating the question to him. The metal limbs shift as he steps away, but one of the claws remains clamped to your leg, just hard enough to make you think twice about trying to move. He turns to stare out at the city with its blinking lights.

“I haven’t been myself for a very long time,” he finally says, glaring out at the city’s expanse. “When we met, I was…” he makes a low, frustrated sound. The appendages slowly twist and coil in the air. “It’s difficult to explain in words, or in any other way that you could understand.”

“You said it was…sort of like a lobotomy, right?” you offer, unable to keep your voice from shaking. His red eyes lock onto yours for a long, quiet moment, until you’re regretting having said anything.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “It was…similar. My feelings for your race were complicated before, but after that, the anger was all I could remember, and I hated you at first.” His eyes narrow, as the coils writhe. One of them brushes against your shoulder, and when you lift a hand to thread your fingers between the curved metal claws, it’s hard not to picture them closing down and crushing your bones, but the twisting appendage stills at your touch.

“You know, I wasn’t too crazy about you, either.” AR watches as you lift the heavy claws in your hand and press your lips against them. The metal fogs with your breath as you speak. “You tried to kill me. You tried to kill my friends. You blackmailed me and tore open my neck, and my leg. I couldn’t walk on it for weeks, and then you strangled me in the tunnels and nearly cracked my head open until I was too dizzy to think straight. Your idea of a relationship was telling me I couldn’t pursue anyone else while you fucked around with me and strung me along, because you were openly incapable of caring about me, and I-“ you choke on the words, gripping the metal tight against your face. “I kept saying I didn’t care, and that it didn’t matter, and I tried so hard for so long to pretend, but it felt like…” you bite back a sob, refusing to cry in front of him, even as tears stream down your face. “It felt like I was _killing_ myself for you all over again. I-It hurt so much, I couldn’t…”

Your shoulders shake as your words fail, unable to continue trying to explain the weight in your heart, or why the way he’s looking at you makes it feel like the wound in your stomach is back. The next thing you know, you’re surrounded by his black coils, with metal fingers threaded carefully in your hair.

“You felt things for me that I didn’t deserve,” AR says to you slowly, holding you against him as you try to inhale without hiccupping embarrassingly. “You showed me kindness and loyalty when I struggled to understand why it was hurting you, and no matter what I did, you protected me.” He places a hand beneath your chin and tilts your face up, until you meet his eyes. “Giving you the world is the least I can do. Please, tell me what you want,” he demands, holding your eyes desperately. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll restore your civilization or burn it to the ground, or sterilize the planet and start it over again. I’ll fill the air with radiation until there isn’t a single living thing left outside these walls- just tell me what you want, Dirk.”

For a long moment, you’re at a loss for words as his inhuman eyes shine in the darkness, colored with the blood of thousands of innocent people and the promise of countless more. Your vision is still blurred with tears, but something in your chest feels like it’s resonating with his words, like a plucked string between your ribs. He’s not the same as he was before, and much of him is changed and different, and even missing, but the parts of him that you loved aren’t the parts that hurt you.

This time when you kiss him, it’s a slow and gentle motion, soothing the twisting metal coils until they’re resting passively at your feet. AR’s red eyes flicker in the darkness when you pull away to lean your forehead against his.

“I want _you._ ”

  
  
  
  
  


“Your brother said you might like a window in your room,” AR says, staring out at the city through the square pane of glass. “Was he right?”

You make a small confirmative sound as you fold the third blanket and slide it underneath your bed. Jake wasn’t kidding when he said everything was exactly the way you’d left it, right down to the fragments of your half-repaired laptop still cluttering your workbench. Even for the time of year, the air is surprisingly temperate- ‘climate controlled,’ AR had said when you remarked on it. Either way, it’s too warm for anything more than sheets.

“I could add another…or make this one bigger,” AR mutters, as you pull off the last blanket and drape it at the foot of the bed, just in case you get cold later. It even still smells like the compound’s dust and concrete, but you breathe it in happily. “You can tint the glass if the sunlight ever bothers you, or turn it opaque for privacy, but it doesn’t open because we’re several thousand feet up and I don’t want you to die.”

You sigh quietly and shake your head, rearranging your pillows before trying to decide whether or not to keep your socks on tonight. Your summer clothes are buried at the bottom of what passes as your wardrobe, which is actually just several plywood boxes nailed together and stacked against the wall. You can tell from the long, jagged crack down the side that it must have fallen over while it was being moved here, and Bro must have haphazardly dug his way through it to find the clothes you’re wearing now, because everything is abysmally out of order. You’re tempted to start reorganizing it now, but AR’s voice distracts you.

“Roxy thinks I should be more open about my anxieties,” he says, leaning back against the window when you turn around. His red circuits reflect off of the dark glass in warped patterns. “And also that I’m…on her ‘shit list,’ for making you cry.”

“You told her about that?” you wince, and he nods.

“She’s been interrogating me about how our reunion went. I try to be honest with her, she usually finds out eventually if I’m not.” AR glances over his shoulder at the city behind him, humming quietly. “She’s often up late, working on whatever projects she’s assigned herself to. Your compound’s citizens are very productive, almost compulsively so.”

“We’ve spent our whole lives just trying to make things work with what we had,” you tell him, staring down at the broken wardrobe and remembering the maintenance lab with its endless piles of equipment. The thought of Roxy staying up late and stubbornly doing what she’s always done makes you smile, and Jane even said there’s plenty to do around here, but you’re starting to wonder how you’re ever going to make yourself useful living in a city with technology more advanced than anything you’ve ever known. “I don’t know what to do,” you sigh, reaching out to pick at the edge of the wardrobe’s cracked wood. “All I ever did was scavenge and repair equipment, but that seems…kind of obsolete now.”

“You can do whatever you want here,” AR states with finality, and you lift an eyebrow at him.

“I’m only human, AR,” you mutter. “Compared to you, there’s a lot that I can’t do.”

“What have you always wanted to do?” he asks, seemingly ignoring your statement. You sigh, then pause, thinking the question over seriously.

“Well…” you shrug, glancing over at your workbench and the half-repaired laptop surrounded by miscellaneous parts. “I’ve always...sort of wanted to invent things. I built my shades from scratch, and I had other projects planned, but resources were hard enough to find before I got kicked out of scavenging.”

AR nods at your explanation. "Even with their cognitive shortcomings, and the limitations of an organic body, humans are innovative in ways that my kind is not, especially with the inbuilt operational parameters they’re restricted to. You’ll adapt to the technology here, just like Roxy did. I can help you learn the same way I helped her,” he offers, and your heartbeat inexplicably picks up at his words. AR watches with benign curiosity as you approach him, sliding your arms over his shoulders and relishing the way his circuits tingle against your skin. You have to rehearse the words in your head a few times, before gathering the courage to say them out loud.

“Can you stay?” you whisper.

“If you’d like,” he replies with soft amusement. You weren’t really expecting him to say yes, and your face immediately heats up as one of his limbs brushes against your leg, coiling around it like an affectionate viper.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from anything important.” Your voice is low, despite the fact that you’re both alone, and you’re fairly certain the walls here are thicker than they were in the compound.

“You won’t be. The control room helps, but there’s very little I can’t do from here,” he reassures. AR follows as you lead him to the bed, until you reach the mattress and stare down at it for a long moment, wishing you had thought this through better. Then AR’s coils suddenly wrap themselves around your body as he sits down on the edge of the bed, reclining against the wall and pulling you towards him, until you’re held with his arms loosely draped around your lower back and his legs stretched out alongside yours. His metal chest is smooth and warm, and despite the nervous tremor in the pit of your stomach, you can’t help yourself from relaxing against him with a long, contented sigh.

As the next few moments pass, you try hard not to let your mind get carried away like it always does, but it’s hard to stop thinking about how unreal this is. Everything that happened with H.I.C. feels like it was literally yesterday, like you’ve been in suspended animation since then, and part of you is still expecting to wake up. Restlessly, you trace along one of the glowing lines on AR’s chest, watching the red light flicker under your fingertips and thinking about the way Bro screamed after you got impaled. The absent wound doesn’t hurt anymore, but you’ll likely be having nightmares about it for the rest of your life.

“Hey, before I forget,” you mumble, pushing yourself up until you’re sitting in AR’s lap, “thank you, for not killing Jake.”

AR makes a low, displeased sound. “Jake English is your friend, and I respect that.”

You startle yourself with a sudden burst of laughter at his begrudging tone, as AR’s eyes widen.

“At least you’re using his actual name now, that’s got to count for something,” you grin.

“Despite our multitude of disagreements, and that fact that he’s a statistical outlier on the narrow scale of human intelligence,” AR pauses as you snort, “your male friend still has several redeeming qualities…at most,” he mutters, and you lift an eyebrow.

“That doesn’t sound like a lot,” you point out.

“It doesn’t have to be,” AR retorts, his hands sliding down your back to rest on your hips- an absent-minded gesture, but now your entire torso feels like it’s turning red. “At the absolute least, I can trust him to protect you and act with your best interests in mind, regardless of how misguided his actions might be. That alone is enough of a reason to keep him alive.”

His words reach you, but your focus on the conversation has been effectively derailed by the gentle pressure of his hands against your waist. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to focus, and offering up the first piece of information that comes to mind.

“Even Bro tried to get him to stay behind at the compound.” Your words are quiet, distracted, but then something else catches on your tongue. AR watches as you frown, trying to decide whether or not to say it aloud, and after a long moment, you meet his eyes hesitantly. “AR, did you…what exactly did you do to Caliborn? Jake and the others wouldn’t tell me when I asked.”

The slow, malicious smile you get in reply brings with it a familiar fear at the sight, because you know that expression. Despite how AR might have changed, he’s still a sadist at heart.

“Does the word ‘exfoliatin’ mean anything to you?” AR smiles, his circuits tingling against your scalp as he fondly brushes his metal fingers through your hair.

“No,” you frown, starting to dread the direction this conversation is taking.

“It’s a toxin,” he explains factually. “An enzyme, produced by certain strains of Staphylococcal bacteria to erode the microscopic connections between skin cells. Easy to synthesize, and concentrate…and inject.” You swallow, as his fingers trail along the side of your neck. “Back in your civilization’s time, its effects were known as ‘scalded skin syndrome,’ for their similarity to the wounds suffered by burn victims. Afflicted individuals usually succumbed to the type of infection that tends to happen when humans have no skin, but keeping that boy alive was easy with antibiotics.”

You don’t want to imagine what you’re hearing, but it’s hard not to picture it, and it turns out your friends had a good reason for withholding this from you. AR meets your slightly horrified stare with satisfaction, before his expression falls.

“But your brother didn’t like it,” he mutters, coiled appendages shifting restlessly. “He made a rather convincing argument that it wasn’t what you’d have wanted, so I withdrew the antibiotics, and the infection set in, and the boy died…” AR’s pleased expression returns, “…eventually.”

You’re at a loss for words, and miserably conflicted, as the black appendages slide and press against you while AR waits for you to respond. When you reach down and rest your hand against one of them, it gently coils around your arm.

“I think it was a fitting punishment,” he says.

“Because of what he did to you?”

AR seems caught off-guard by your whispered question, like the answer should have been obvious.

“Because he injured you,” he states, as his coils suddenly tighten possessively. You’re inwardly baffled and ashamed at your own rush of arousal as the metal squeezes, and his next words come slowly. “I should have killed his father the same way, but I allowed that human child to find redemption by serving as an example of what will happen if anyone _ever_ tries to harm you again.” AR’s red eyes burn, as you struggle to catch your breath, and he seems surprised when you suddenly lean against him.

It’s monstrous and horrific, and it shouldn’t turn you on like this.

You open your mouth against the side of his neck, unable to care about the fact that he probably doesn’t get anything out of it, and your breath catches when one of his circuits buzzes painfully against your tongue, but the feeling runs down your spine and sparks something deeper. Soon you’re mouthing at the underside of his jaw, and your heart jumps when AR’s coils slide across your back, holding you in place. He seems pleased by the attention, keeping his fingers threaded in your hair as you kiss his metal skin. When you look up, face flushed and heated, his fingers tighten in your hair as he leans down, pressing his mouth against yours, and then his lips _part…_

It occurs to you briefly that you’ve never actually been kissed before, but your ability to think about it objectively is gone forever. He tilts your head back and explores the inside of your mouth with his synthetic tongue, eyes open and focused, while you try to hold back the needy, pathetic sounds in your throat. Then something else presses against the back of your head- an array of sharp points that prick against your scalp, as the appendage cradles your skull in its claws. When you try to shift restlessly, he leisurely winds more of them around your waist and thighs, keeping your legs parted as they begin to tremble. When you try to lift your hands, they’re captured by his claws and loosely held in a steel trap, and when his fingers slide down from your chin to gently grip the base of your throat, you finally hit your breaking point, mindlessly pleading with broken, wordless sounds as your arousal flares.

Too soon he leans away, watching you shake and gasp for air with a satisfied smile.

“You’re so easy to stimulate, Dirk.” He trails his fingertips along your clavicle, then down the front of your shirt to slide his hand back up along your bare stomach. You take in a sharp breath, fighting to keep your hips from bucking. “I’m glad your brother talked me into healing your body, rather than building a new one. Eventually, though, I’d still like to replace the neural pathways in your brain with a synthetic derivative.” He tilts his head to the side, regarding you thoughtfully as you tremble in his coils. “That way as you age, or if anything ever happens to your body, your consciousness will be safe.”

“That,” you gasp with effort, “sounds…kind of terrifying.”

“It won’t hurt,” he smiles. “In fact, you won’t even notice a difference after the procedure is finished. I’ll keep your mental parameters within human limits, but that could change eventually, if you want. I’ve also taken an archive of your stem cells and genetic sequence, so if anything ever does happen to your body, it can be regrown, if you’d rather stay human.”

You blink owlishly, confused, and so turned on it hurts. He distracts you with a hand beneath your chin, and your lips part on their own when his thumb gets close. You can’t help pressing your tongue against it and relishing the metallic taste, even as the electricity makes your jaw ache, and you can feel yourself flushing pink as he watches you.

“Eager to please?” he whispers with an amused smile, and you can’t hide the honest, visceral sound those words coax out of you in reply. You’re starting to feel like you’re losing your mind, because it’s impossible to think when he’s teasing you like this- like he knows exactly what he’s doing. You almost gag when his thumb presses down against the back of your tongue, before heat blooms in your gut at the sensation, and he forces you to move with it, tilting your face down as the claws dig harder into the back of your head. You quickly discover that you can’t swallow with your tongue restrained like that, and you try to close your teeth before you embarrass yourself, but something wet soon drips down the side of your mouth. He watches with pleasure as you struggle, trying your hardest to swallow and only making it worse with your efforts.

“I don’t think I was really able to appreciate this before,” he says pensively, as you choke while he rubs the back of your tongue, your entire mouth tingling with electricity. “Roxy was so adamant about giving us the chance to have sex back in the compound, and I couldn’t understand why at the time,” he tilts his head to the side, regarding you fondly, “but I do find my own pleasure in your kinks. We’re very compatible, despite the fact that you’re human.”

Finally, he releases your mouth, and briefly allows you to wipe the spit from your chin. You aren’t sure whether to be humiliated or aroused, because right now you’re experiencing both in equal amounts, until something brushes against the back of your neck.

You’re trembling with more than just arousal now, as his claws slide across your skin, slowly tuning this way and that, as though trying to orient themselves. He’s doing this on purpose, smirking at your wide-eyed expression as the darkened subway platform appears around you. Your chest begins to heave, as he leans forward and presses his mouth against your ear.

“What is it about having your life threatened that appeals to you?” he wonders softly, as more of his coils surround your body, until you’re pulled backwards onto the mattress. Only the position alone is similar to your first time with him- now you can’t keep track of how many black limbs are wrapped around your arms and legs, circling your waist, pressing against your throat. You’re shaking with every breath, as AR considers you thoughtfully. “No…that’s not it. I think you’d have been attracted to that wretched child ‘Caliborn,’ if it were that simple.” One of his metal limbs purposefully slides between your legs, and your hips uselessly arch against it in desperation. “You’re certainly not a masochist, I’d have noticed by now if you were, but perhaps it’s a form of psychological masochism?”

You hold your breath in sudden fear, as several of his claws orient themselves over your body and their gleaming points spring open. They descend and drag themselves carefully across your skin, one of them scraping along your heaving chest and down your stomach, while another closes around your throat, as you strain uselessly in his grip. He looks pleasantly surprised when you whimper his name.

“My initial theory seems to be correct,” he smiles, and you moan through your teeth as his hands descend below your line of sight and something tingles along the exposed skin of your abdomen, just above the waistline of your pants. He pulls them down with your boxers, and the limbs wrapped around you finish the job, winding the articles of clothing down your legs until they’re off completely. Then he pauses, letting you catch your breath as he smirks down at you, until you’re staring back at him with mounting apprehension. One of his clawed appendages lifts into the air, lazily twisting around in front of him before it slowly descends below your field of vision, and then something smooth and hard brushes along the sides of your aching cock.

You can feel yourself twitch at the unexpected contact, and you take in a long, terrified breath at the knowledge of what he’s touching you with. AR laughs quietly at your reaction, keeping his touch purposefully light as his claw gently closes, while your body shakes with the dual exertion of holding still and desperately trying to writhe in his grasp. The stimulation is barely enough and far too much all at once. After a few long, agonizing minutes, he mercifully eases up just enough to let your hips move, and you thrust mindlessly into the feather-light grip of his claws, not even bothering to hide the whimpering sounds that have replaced your words. Despite how painfully, torturously slow this is, you can feel yourself approaching the edge and starting to slip down the other side, and that’s when he withdraws the appendage. You struggle to catch your breath, trembling helplessly as AR holds you spread-eagle against the bed.

“Do you want to come, Dirk?” he asks, thoughtfully regarding the tiny bead of precum on the tip of your cock. You manage to nod your head affirmatively, to which he only hums expectantly, almost like he’s playfully unconvinced by the state you’re in.

“Please,” you whisper once you catch on. “Please…AR, please…I-I need…”

“I suppose we could end this now,” he says, before pretending to consider something. “Then again…” he smirks, making your stomach drop as he speaks, “we do have plenty of time at our disposal for once, so why rush it?”

Your protests die in your throat, as his appendages suddenly tighten around your arms and legs- not hard enough to hurt, but enough to effectively restrain you. He reaches down with one hand to where your cock is resting in a stiff arch against your abdomen, but rather than circling his fingers around it the way you expected, the only thing you feel is a slight, gentle buzzing at the very base of your shaft. He watches you patiently, as the heat slowly starts to build below your stomach, and your leg twitches restlessly. It feels like he’s holding a single finger against you, and you bite your lip when he slowly begins to move it in small, leisurely circles. You try to shift in his grip, unable to do more than tense and roll your head from side to side as he observes, and the feeling gradually builds at the base of your spine.

“AR,” you gasp, gritting your teeth together, futilely trying to squirm as he holds you still. You take a few deep breaths, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them again, and pleadingly holding his gaze for as long as you can, trying to jerk your legs out of his grasp, but he’s securely wrapped around you.

“You’re always in such a hurry to end this,” he remarks offhandedly, “even though you clearly enjoy it. I’ll never understand why.”

“A- _Ah-h_ …AR…f-fuck…” you whine, uselessly trying to arch your back, to close your knees, _anything_ to relieve some of the tension between your legs, and he watches you tremble- mildly amused, but unmoved. You’re starting to dread the building heat, as your attempts to move become less coordinated and more erratic. You almost cry out when his finger stills, abandoning the circular motion to simply rest against the base of your shaft like an indifferent afterthought. The gentle tingling sensation is quickly driving you insane, and you know from experience that no amount of begging or pleading will sway him, but that won’t stop you from trying. He’s intentionally keeping your hips in place, preventing you from achieving even the slightest amount of friction as your entire body shakes. You couldn’t hold still right now if your life depended on it.

“I suppose I should be flattered,” AR muses, as the claw still wrapped around your throat lifts slightly, the points digging into your skin. Your reply is broken and incoherent, as he gently drags it across your jugular. “Of all the humans and machines that tried to end your life, I’m the only one you fell in love with. I don’t expect you to understand what that means to me,” he says, leaning over you without breaking the contact of his finger, “but maybe I can show you instead.”

His other hand is suddenly tangled in your hair, forcing your head back as the claw hovering over your neck clamps down, cutting off your ability to breathe. You immediately panic at the abrupt loss of air, but the fingers in your hair tighten as AR watches you, meeting your frantic gaze with a quiet stare as your body shakes in his grasp. He leans in closer as your vision starts to bloom and sparkle, until his forehead is pressed against yours, blurring out the rest of your vision with the red light of his eyes, and somehow the desperate, full-body ache at the complete lack of air starts to mix with your coiling arousal, until the two sensations are one and the same. You’re unable to think or feel anything else as it washes over you in endless waves, and finally drowns you. The euphoria is incredible, soaking into every nerve and fiber while you flirt with unconsciousness, but your chest reflexively expands when the claws release your throat, letting in a rush of air that makes your entire world spin.

AR’s metal limbs rest passively, draped around you in loose coils as your overstimulated mind recovers. You find yourself blinking up at him, and probably looking just as shell-shocked and disoriented as you feel.

“Holy shit,” you slur, swallowing against the lingering ache.

“I thought you might enjoy that,” he says, stretching out next to you and using his limbs to pull you close. You fold your arms against his chest, then decide to wrap them around him instead, letting out a deep and profoundly exhausted sigh as your bare skin tingles. Belatedly, you marvel at the fact that your bed was able to hold this much weight without breaking. After a few silent moments, you hesitantly clear your throat.

“You don’t have to stay…if you don’t want to,” you whisper, curling into him as one of his appendages lifts and carefully snakes its way through the air towards your lamp. The room suddenly goes dark, except for the ambient glow of his circuits. You inwardly wince, as something else occurs to you. “Bro won’t like this if he finds out.”

“Don’t worry about him,” AR says quietly, brushing his fingers through your hair, and your eyes slide shut at the feeling. “He knows you’re mine…and that I love you.” Your eyes fly open, and you quickly lean away to stare at AR. “Not in the human sense, but in my own way, I suppose,” AR explains, then blinks in vague confusion as your expression does something strange. “Does…that upset you?”

You’re unable to respond with words, instead burying your face into his neck and holding him tight, while your shoulders tremble. You shake your head when he says your name, startled and genuinely concerned at your reaction. You sniff wetly, then let out a broken laugh, and he probably thinks you’ve lost your mind, but he seems less concerned after you lean up and kiss him.

“I love you too,” you mumble incoherently, unsure at first if he was able to understand it, but the subtle affection in his eyes tells you everything. It’s possessive and slightly neurotic, and even dangerous to everyone else around you, but its depth is almost unfathomable. He’s both a cure and a poison for the human race, and if you really wanted to save them all and ensure a permanent end to the apocalypse, you’d probably have to kill him someday.

But you won’t.

Because as long as he loves you back, you’ll keep choosing him, over all else.

Until the very end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Excellent fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/114606418446/notacorpse-notacadaver-its-nice-to-see-you) of AR by the marvelous notacorpse!!
> 
> [An emotional reunion](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/114795717466/insinuatejealousy-control-center-and-reunion) by the very talented [InsinuateJealousy!!](http://insinuatejealousy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [An abundance of beautiful, fantastic drawings](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/117808524426/jaboody-okay-im-predicting-canon-hal-wont-be) by [jaboody!](http://jaboody.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [This beautiful ending scene](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/116047048326/tumblr-user-minilisko-has-once-again-gifted-this) by the excellent [Minilisko!!](http://minilisko.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And [here is a masterpost](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/118464294696/endangered-masterpost) of all the fanwork that was created for this fic! As of September 2015, there is also [an askblog](http://houston-global-inquiry.tumblr.com/) run by myself and the excellently talented [Jaboody.](http://jaboody.tumblr.com/) :^y
> 
> I made a fanmix for this fic. [It's here!](http://8tracks.com/mortior/endangered-a-fanfiction-fanmix) Tracks 1-7 are Dirk's, and track 8 is AR's. If this fic were an anime, track 1 would probably be the opening theme.
> 
> Also, here's an important disclaimer: Breath play should never be performed by compressing someone's throat. Please refer to [this info page,](http://www.the-iron-gate.com/essays/59) and make sure to always have someone experienced on hand if you're going to try it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!! o3o


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise epilogue chapter!
> 
> Can also be found [here](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/118801265266/endangered-25-25) on Tumblr.

“Dave, I’m fairly certain we passed third street,” Rose tells him placatingly, as Dave glares down at the disassembled electric lamp in front of him, pinching one of the long, bent wires between his fingers. He twists it carefully, before hissing and wrenching his arm away as something inside of it sparks.

“Wow, Rose, really? That’s incredible, I had no idea you’d developed night vision between now and yesterday,” he mocks, before sucking on the tip of his finger with a grimace. Jade gives him a pained look and rubs the side of his arm where she’s leaning against him, wrapped in an oversized blanket against the chill.

“I’m certain we’ll figure out where we are once the sun comes up,” Rose states calmly, folding the map in front of her, before tucking it into the satchel next to your oversized backpack. She reaches for the small candle on the floor in front of her, the yellow flame wavering as it’s lifted into the air. “Besides, why don’t we just use this? I’m sure there’s a street sign nearby somewhere.”

“Because it’s windy out there, and we can’t afford to waste any more matches.” Dave pushes the broken lamp aside with frustration, before carefully reaching around Jade’s shoulders to pull the blanket tighter. He grumbles angrily under his breath. “This wouldn’t have even been a problem, if we had a lamp that actually worked.”

“Oh my god, Dave, I’m _sorry,_ ” you exclaim, meeting his sulking glare with your own frustration. “I didn’t know it was broken! It’s not my fault they never organized anything in storage.”

“So maybe try pressing the actual fucking button next time to make sure it works and that we’re not left carrying around a useless piece of shit on a two-hundred mile fucking hike through the countryside!”

You lean back and sulk, as Rose talks him down in a soft, but scolding tone. Dave still won’t let the lamp thing go, no matter how many times you apologise for it, and honestly, anyone could have made that mistake. The storage room was always a complete disaster, and it’s a miracle you even found the thing in the thirty-second window you had to swipe what you needed. The cold night air makes you shiver, and you wrap your arms around yourself, as Jade catches your eye, smiling apologetically. You return it, feeling your spirits lift just a little bit. Dave and Rose are still going back and forth, as the candlelight flickers, lighting up the inside of the overturned bus you’re all spending the night in.

“We’ve already reached Beaumont City,” Rose tries to persuade him. “I think that perhaps we can afford to slow down a little.”

“Fuck no, we’re not slowing down,” he growls. “The longer this takes, the colder it’ll get. We have to keep moving.”

“Dave, she’s exhausted.” Rose gestures at Jade, and the glare she gets in return from Dave is enough to momentarily end their conversation. You shift in the ensuing awkward silence, trying in vain to get comfortable. The wind picks up again, peppering the outside of the bus with a shower of dirt that hisses against the metal. Rose seems occupied with her own thoughts, as Jade coughs under the blanket and Dave leans over to whisper to her quietly. You roll onto your back, staring up at the dirty windows through the decaying wool and foam of the rows of seats. At least the glass didn’t shatter when the bus rolled onto its side however many years ago. You’re just grateful to have somewhere to rest where the wind can’t get in. Rose says there’s another empty stretch of countryside to get through after this city, before you finally reach your destination.

“...do you really think they won’t follow us?” you whisper, and Dave sighs.

“It’s been over a week, Egbert. I think we’re safe.”

“But we stole food,” you roll back onto your side, ignoring the window frame digging into your arm, “and medicine.”

“All the more reason they can’t come after us,” he mutters. Rose lets out a long sigh.

“We aren’t the first to abandon the compound, John. Every time it’s happened, all they’ve done is tighten security even further. To my knowledge, they haven’t even tried to bring anyone back yet, at least not by force.”

“More like a fucking prison,” Dave hisses under his breath. Jade suddenly starts coughing again, harder this time, and he forgets his anger for a moment to wrap his arms around her, as she shivers against his chest under the blanket. “They’re all cowards, too scared to leave their precious fortress, while everyone rots in there with them.”

“But what if we’re wrong?” you ask, pushing yourself up to face them. “What if it really was just a rumor? What if we’re walking into a trap or something?”

“Because we’d have been caught and ground into hamburger by now if it weren’t true, now shut up and go to sleep, Egbert.”

Dave ignores the scowl you throw at him, and you vindictively roll onto your other side where you can’t see him. There’s the sound of someone moving a few minutes later, and Rose settles down next to you, making herself comfortable before finally blowing out the candle.

“You know he doesn’t mean it,” she whispers, quiet enough that you can barely hear. You let out a long sigh, as Jade coughs again. The rough sound makes you wince sympathetically. Just listening to her is enough to make your own chest feel like it’s hurting.

“I know,” you mumble, “and he’s right, I guess. We’ve traveled over a hundred miles, and there hasn’t been a single android to stop us. Not that I _want_ to see one or anything, but it’s just weird, is all.”

“I agree with you. It is strange, but it certainly lends credence to the stories we’ve been hearing,” she answers, before your quiet conversation lapses into silence. Despite the cold air and the uncomfortable position, and Jade’s coughing repeatedly pulling you out of a meager, light sleep, it isn’t long before the sky turns from black into a faint, darkened blue.

The four of you make short work of breakfast, passing around what’s left of the open can from last night, while Rose packs up the supplies, and Dave gently coaxes Jade into eating her food. You lift the backpack onto your shoulders, noticing how much lighter it is compared to when you started this journey. The door at the back of the bus (labeled “Emergency” in black letters), opens and swings down when you pull the handle, and you climb out before extending a hand to Rose. Dave follows soon after, wearing his dark aviators and carrying Jade on his back with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She flashes you a tired grin, and you return it happily, forcing yourself to ignore the dark circles around her sunken eyes. Rose unfolds the map and hums thoughtfully.

“Here’s the last place we stopped.” She points to a spot on the paper, then traces her finger across it in a straight line. “This should be close to where we are now. Let’s all keep an eye out for street signs, if there are any.”

“This place is wrecked,” you remark, as you walk along the road, cluttered with overturned cars and debris. “It’s even worse than the last city we passed through.”

“We’re getting closer,” Dave tells you, and you’re still a bit sore about last night, but you nod.

“Yeah, how much further, though?”

He shrugs, the gesture limited by Jade’s weight.

“Another week, perhaps,” Rose answers. “Still, I’m also surprised by the amount of destruction here. It even looks like some of the buildings were hollowed out.”

Rose and Dave lapse into an aimless, meandering conversation, while you distract yourself by staring up at the buildings and peering into every alley as you pass by. The air is warming up as the sun rises higher, and you gratefully shake off the night’s chill. Eventually, Jade falls asleep on Dave’s back, and Rose slows down enough to walk alongside you, pointing out one of the taller buildings in the distance, then to the corresponding spot on her map.

Dave is the first to stop walking, coming to a halt in front of a strange disruption on the next paved road. You and Rose catch up to him a minute later, and you whistle through your teeth at the sight.

“Woah,” you breathe slowly, taking in the path of destruction laid out in front of you. The asphalt from here to the next few blocks over and beyond has been completely torn up, like something huge and heavy was dragged down the road, and the buildings weren’t spared either, their sides covered in bizarre, winding scratch marks and shattered windows. The sidewalks are littered with broken glass and concrete. “What happened here?” you whisper.

“Something bad,” Dave mutters, carefully descending into the wide, shallow trench where the road used to be. “Might be a good place to stop, though.”

“Are you sure?” you hesitate, but he doesn’t respond, too occupied with waking Jade up and helping her down. Rose joins them, and you follow soon after, careful not to lose your footing.

After you’ve removed your backpack and sorted through the remaining cans of food, Rose spreads out the map and points at various spots while Dave hovers over her shoulder, nodding and muttering to her. Jade is leaning back against one of the larger slabs of concrete, her chest heaving silently beneath the blanket. Her long black hair makes her skin look even paler than it already is. 

You find one of the water bottles at the bottom of your backpack, carefully unscrewing the cap and taking just enough to wet your mouth. Dave accepts it wordlessly when you pass it to him, before you lean back on your hands and feel something prick the side of your palm in the dirt.

“Hey Dave, check it out,” you grin, blowing the dirt off of the pair of pointed sunglasses, before removing your own and placing them on your face. The black glass is cracked and impossible to see through. “Am I cool like you now?”

“Egbert, you are a walking, talking, textbook antonym of the word ‘cool,’” he retorts, but the side of his mouth quirks up in an unwilling smile.

“John, take those off, you don’t know where they’ve been,” Rose gently scolds.

“Man, these are totally busted,” you mumble, pushing them down on your nose so you can see, to find Jade watching you. Then you push them back up to make a few silly faces for her, like you’re posing for a photograph. She chuckles quietly, then starts coughing until she’s almost wheezing for air. You wilt under Dave’s haughty glare, as he abandons the map to kneel next to her, rubbing her back and helping her lean forward. She coughs into his shoulder, and your stomach twists at the tiny red flecks on his shirt when he moves away.

You avoid meeting Dave’s eyes for the rest of the afternoon, eating your food in silence after discarding the broken sunglasses somewhere in the dirt. Rose folds up the map when she’s done, and the three of you make your way out of the trench and along the streets. You spend the rest of the day navigating through the wreckage, before the city slowly gives way to an empty expanse of dirt and brush, and the occasional twisted, miserable tree. It’s a view you’re painfully familiar with, as your feet ache at the sight.

 

You follow the endless road alongside your friends, keeping pace with them as Rose tracks your progress on the map, and Dave tirelessly carries Jade on his back. You’re in charge of managing the supplies, and you calculated carefully before you left- just enough food and water to get you to there, but nothing for getting back. Chances are the four of you would be gunned down on sight if you tried to return, even though it was Dave’s idea to leave in the first place, followed by Rose once he got her on board, and finally you, after refusing to be left behind. Jade didn’t have much of a say in the matter, but she probably would have agreed anyway, knowing what she was like before she got sick.

After a few more days on the interstate road, sleeping huddled together in the ditch and staring out at the same expanse of scrub brush and horizon for countless hours on end, the next sunrise reflects off of something in the distance. By midday, you can make out a series of strange shapes sticking up from the earth like a wall of needles. Every day after that brings you closer, until you’re facing an expanse of towering black spires.

You stare in utter, shell-shocked disbelief when your small group passes by a moderate gathering of people some distance away from the side of the road, busy with what seem to be rows of plants. Several of them look up briefly as you pass, but they seem far less interested in you by comparison. Dave urges the rest of you to keep moving, and it isn’t long before you pass another group of people, along with a row of shacks and a few more cultivated plots of land. Rose stares at them in fascination, and is the first to greet several individuals as they pass you on the road, heading in the other direction. The shacks get closer together and more permanent-looking as you keep going, until you’re passing beneath your first spire, an alien structure that punctures the sky through the clouds, and rises out of sight.

By the time the sun begins to set, you’re surrounded by loose crowds of human beings, more than you’ve ever seen before in your life, and the noise is disorienting. You stay close to your friends, careful not to lose sight of them as Dave pulls someone aside. The man listens to him talk, then points at something off in the distance. You’re led between buildings and stalls, the narrow streets busy and crowded, before something else catches your eye- a figure standing off to the side with a small group of people, wearing what you thought was black clothing at first glance, but the light reflects strangely off of their shoulders as you pass by, and you almost didn’t notice the curled horns on either side of their head. Dave sets a demanding pace through the crowd, and you’re forced to swallow your curiosity and keep moving.

“There it is,” he says, directing your gaze up to the dizzyingly massive tower a short distance away, rising tall above the surrounding spires. “They said that’s the place to go if you need help.”

“Well, we've certainly made good time,” Rose sighs, setting her satchel down and leaning against one of the nearby walls, “but it’s gotten very late, Dave. I’m not certain we’ll be welcomed at this hour.”

Almost as though she’s agreeing, Jade coughs weakly, her shoulders shaking with the effort. It’s been several days since the last time Jade even tried to interact with you, and Dave’s been guarding her more than ever. He carefully sets her down, propping her up against the wall and leaning in close to whisper to her. Rose sits down and pulls off her shoes with a relieved sigh, and you cross the narrow street to join her, removing your backpack and opening the last can of food. Your supply of water ran out this morning, and you wish you had some left, at least for Jade. She’s wheezing quietly with every breath now, like there’s something stuck in her throat, but Rose says it’s her lungs. Dave doesn’t join the two of you for dinner, until you pass the can to him, and he carefully feeds Jade with his fingers.

 

Later that night, and well before morning, you’re awoken by the sound of Dave screaming.

You bolt upright to find him leaning over Jade, shaking her shoulders and frantically calling her name. Rose is next to him a moment later, and you scramble to your feet as Dave wrenches away from her and grabs Jade, lifting and cradling her in his arms. He runs down the street as you and Rose are left to catch up, following the sound of his pounding footsteps towards the looming central tower in the darkness. He’s at the base of the structure when you catch up to him, gasping for air with Jade’s limp body in his arms. There’s a faint outline of a door in the metal in front of him, and he kicks at it violently with one leg.

“Let us in!” he screams hoarsely, kicking the door again, before almost losing his balance and stumbling backwards. You take his place and pound on the black metal, yelling at the top of your lungs for help, when the door suddenly slides open, and there’s a very hostile android glaring down at you. Its horns are almost unnoticeable compared to the others- just a pair of rounded nubs, but its circuits are a bright, almost angry cherry red.

“Please, our friend is sick, help…” you immediately plead in a wavering voice, ignoring the fear crawling up and down your spine as the android stares at you, then at Rose and Dave, and finally at Jade in his arms, her lips pale. The android hisses for a moment, like a low, breathy growl, before abruptly turning around.

“Come. Now.” Its voice has a strange, metallic rasp, but Dave shoves past you to walk quickly behind it, as you’re led into a dark, narrow corridor. The door you came in through closes on its own, and you’re left following the android’s neon-red circuits as it leads your group in silence.

Eventually, after several twists and turns, the corridor opens up into a larger room, this one lit from above by electric lights, with multiple open hallways leading out of it. The android stops in the center of the room and turns to face your group.

“Wait.” It practically barks the word, before leaving through one of the corridors. Dave looks like he’s about to split himself in half, as he watches the android leave. He kneels down with Jade still cradled in his arms, muttering curses under his breath through tears and gritted teeth. You take a step towards him, before Rose stops you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking her head sadly when you meet her eyes.

“But, we’ve come this far,” you whisper to her, feeling your eyes sting as Dave wraps his arms around Jade, gently rocking her back and forth. Rose pulls you away, leading you to the other side of the circular room. “This can’t...it can’t just happen like this…”

“John, we’ve done all we can for now,” she says sadly, as you try your hardest to ignore the bitter sound of Dave crying behind you. “We’ve accomplished something incredible by making it here on our own, and I know that fate will reward us somehow. Jade’s stronger than all of us combined. She’ll make it through this.”

You force yourself to believe her, refusing to think about the alternative. The passing seconds are unbearable, as Rose does her best to reassure you, but there’s a sound like footsteps on the other side of the room, followed quickly by Dave’s frantic voice.

“Wh- what are you...hey, wait! Where are you taking her?!” he shouts, and you turn to see a second android, this one covered in bright pink circuits, with long horns and an unnerving, shark-like grin. It has Jade’s body wrapped up in more metal tentacles than you can count, and is in the process of carrying her away towards one of the corridors, while Dave throws himself into a panic. Rose quickly crosses the room and tries to subdue him, just as another figure appears from one of the hallways- a human boy that looks only a little older than you, with sandy blond hair and pale, freckled skin. He takes one look at the commotion, before quickly making his way towards them.

“No! Bring her back! **Jade!** ” Dave screams, trying to wrestle out of Rose’s grasp as the pink android disappears down the corridor. The older boy gets there just in time to prevent Dave from sprinting down the hallway, grabbing onto his arm and wrestling him away, before Dave suddenly lashes out, and the stranger is on the floor a moment later, covering his mouth with one hand, his eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Rose grabs onto Dave’s shoulders and tries to yell some sense into him, as you approach the stranger on the floor and kneel down, helping him sit up.

“Where are they taking her?!” Dave shouts.

“To the infirmary!” the boy snaps back, uncovering his mouth. You grimace at the huge split lip and trickle of blood dripping down his nose and chin, soaking into the collar of his shirt, but you’re also momentarily distracted by the stunning amber color of his eyes. Dave seems to finally pause at the sight of blood, staring down at the older boy in dawning realization of what he just did. Rose kneels next to you and unwraps her favorite pink scarf from her neck, balling up the fabric and pressing it to the stranger’s chin. 

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he mutters, hissing in pain as she pulls the scarf away to check the damage. The side of his face already looks swollen. “I’m Dirk, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Dave shifts awkwardly, still glancing every few seconds down the corridor where the android left with Jade, while Rose does her best to stop the bleeding. She shoots Dave a pointed, disapproving glare, and he clears his throat hesitantly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. Rose shakes her head at him, before helping Dirk stand.

“I’m John,” you venture, trying to derail the situation, as you offer Dirk your hand. He blinks at you for a confused moment, before accepting the handshake. “This is Rose, and that’s Dave. Jade is our other friend, who...I guess got carried off somewhere, just now.”

“Where are you guys all from?” Dirk asks, rubbing the side of his chin with a wince. You’re about to answer, when Dave beats you to it.

“I need to know where they took Jade,” he demands, and Rose glowers at him silently, but Dave looks like he’s on the verge of panicking again. “I need to know what’s happening to her, I need to see her...please,” Dave begs, his voice thick and unsteady. Dirk meets his eyes for a long moment, before a slow, strange expression passes over his features. He takes in a long breath, before letting it out.

“Yeah, okay,” he says softly, surprising all three of you. “I can show you where the infirmary is. Follow me,” he gestures, turning and leading you down the hallway and into a long corridor.

Dave lags behind you and Rose, as Dirk leads the way, directing your group through another few twists and turns, before slowly coaxing the three of you onto a round platform in what looks like an open elevator shaft. You swallow your nerves as the thing vibrates under your feet, carrying you higher and higher, until your ears feel like they’re imploding, and Rose directs you to pinch your nose and blow to relieve the pressure. Dave is standing off to the side of the platform, rubbing the back of his hand, his knuckles still smeared with red, while Dirk has the front of his own shirt pinched between his fingers, using it to stop the trickle of blood oozing from the wide split in his lip. After another long moment, Rose clears her throat.

“I’m...very sorry about all this trouble,” she ventures uncertainly, as Dirk’s head lifts at her voice, and you notice something you hadn’t before- a black band around his neck, almost like a metal collar, with a faintly glowing, red geometric pattern etched into it. “What with it being so late at night and all,” Rose continues.

Dirk sniffs wetly, wiping the blood from his face and giving her a pained, lopsided smile. “Nah, don’t worry, it’s only, uh…” he lifts one hand and briefly touches the side of his finger to the collar, like an absent-minded gesture, “...just past two-thirty, but I don’t usually go to sleep until around four. It’s easy to lose track of time in here,” he laughs, then presses his shirt to his mouth again, before the blood can drip down his chin.

“Have you lived here long?” Rose asks, as the platform finally comes to a stop, and you’re left facing another long, featureless metal hallway. Dirk takes the lead and Rose follows, as Dave lags a few steps behind you.

“Almost a year by now,” he replies, voice muffled through the fabric. “I actually lived nearby for a long time, but we moved here after the war ended.”

“Oh, are you here with your family?” Rose is a master of small talk, and you fall back as the two of them easily converse, until you’re walking next to Dave.

“Hey, how you holding up?” you ask, and he snorts humorlessly.

“Fine, just made a total fucking ass of myself, but what’s new,” he mutters unhappily, rubbing the back of his hand.

“Well, it sounds like Jade’s going to be ok,” you offer, trying to lift his spirits. “Come on, Dave, we did it! We made it all the way here, and they’re going to help her, and she’ll get better, and everything will be ok, just like you said.”

“Alright, fine,” he mumbles, meeting your grin with a halfhearted smile. “You’ve got a point. I _was_ right about everything. I tried to tell you the rumors were true, Egbert, but you made me and Rose drag you all the way here just so we could prove it to you, oh ye of little faith, or however that old timey saying goes.”

“Sure thing, Dave,” you drawl. “Just don’t let it swell up your big, fat head, or those stupid sunglasses won’t fit anymore. Why are you even still wearing them? We’re inside of a huge metal building, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Hey, you see this?” Dave points at his own face, and you roll your eyes. “This, right here? This never goes out of style.” 

He chuckles when you shove him, and Rose turns over her shoulder to give you both a pointed look, but you’re too relieved to care, just hearing Dave laugh again and knowing that Jade will be ok, and finally getting to see the android city- you’re almost giddy with it all. Dirk soon comes to a stop in front of a metal door, holding an arm out to keep the three of you back, before he reaches out to a panel on the wall, and the door hisses open.

Dave’s grin immediately vanishes when he sees what’s inside. The pink android from before is there, leaning over what looks like a metal bed, with countless tubes and cylinders arranged around it. You can barely make out Jade’s body, tangled up among hundreds of wires, her eyes closed and her expression peaceful. Dave stares for a long, silent moment, until Rose puts a hand on his shoulder.

“She’ll feel good as new when she wakes up,” Dirk says softly. “I promise.”

“When will that be?” Dave asks, and Dirk hums uncertainly.

“Depends,” he says, once again lifting his hand to the collar on his neck. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth strangely, like he’s reading something. “Looks like it’ll be a few months while they regrow her lungs. Tuberculosis isn’t uncommon, but it can be nasty. Actually, all of you should undergo treatment, since it’s contagious and you’re probably infected. I mean, you don’t have to, but…” he trails off, and Rose nods.

“Thank you, for all of this,” she says, leading Dave away from the room as the door closes, and he silently broods a few steps behind her, as the four of you continue down the hallway.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dirk says, pausing to wipe another trickle of blood from his lip. The skin around it is already starting to turn an ugly shade of purple and blue, and you try not to make a face at the sight. “The treatment is easy, by the way. It’s just an implant, about the size of your thumbnail.” He points to his chest, just below his throat. “It goes here, behind your sternum, and it’s bioreactive, meaning it’ll neutralize anything that gets into your body, so basically you’ll never get sick again.”

“Woah, really?” you breathe in wonder, and he nods.

“Pretty cool, right?” he grins. “I mean, sure it might be kinda overkill, but I caught the flu last month, so…” he laughs awkwardly, before suddenly trailing off, like he’s embarrassed.

“Wait...you came down with the flu?” Rose wonders, frowning slightly, “...and you’re saying _that’s_ why these ‘implants’ were made?”

Dirk turns away and clears his throat, and you can see the back of his neck turning red. 

“I told him he was overreacting,” he mutters under his breath. The conversation fizzles out after that, and you’re left to walk behind them in silence for another few minutes, before you start to get antsy.

“Hey, sooo...what’s that thing around your neck? Also, where are we going?” you ask, and Rose’s eyebrows almost lift into her hair. You think you hear Dave snort, before muttering ‘classic Egbert.’ Dirk is happy to answer your questions- it seems the silence was getting to him too.

“I figured I’d show you guys where the living quarters are, since your friend is going to be here for a while. We’ve got plenty of room, although most of the new arrivals would rather stay outside with other humans than live here in the tower. It’s up to you.” He points at the black band around his throat. “As for this, it’s sort of an all-purpose device, like a computer, but one that stays attached to me.”

“Does it hurt? Can you take it off?” you wonder aloud, and Rose shakes her head at you. Dave laughs under his breath.

“No. I mean, yeah, if I really wanted to, but this thing is interfaced with my brain.” He meets your blank stare, before elaborating. “The wires run up through my neck and into my skull. I could technically pull them out if I had to, but it would probably hurt.”

“How fascinating,” Rose remarks with interest. “I didn’t know the human mind was capable of interfacing with machinery like that.”

Dirk meets her pleasant smile, before glancing away hesitantly, and the conversation lapses into awkward silence again. Rose clears her throat, probably under the impression that she said something wrong.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she begins tentatively, “we’ve been somewhat...out of the loop lately, when it comes to recent historical events, and you seem to be very knowledgeable.” She pauses before continuing, encouraged by Dirk’s neutral expression at the topic. “The last we’d heard, after the killing stopped and before our compound closed itself off, was that a new android emperor had risen after defeating the old one.”

“Well, it’s complicated, but that’s more or less what happened,” Dirk answers cryptically, as you’re led around the next corner and into a long hallway, with rows of identical doors on either side. “I’ll give you the full story later, after we find you guys an empty room. You’re all probably exhausted, and it’s getting late. I’ll show you where everything else is tomorrow.”

A few scattered handfuls of people are nearby, along with the occasional black humanoid figure, all of them going about their own business or talking in halted words and gestures with the people standing around. Rose looks up as one of the androids passes your group, this one with intricate olive-green circuits and mismatched horns, one of them bent at the tip. The android stares back at her curiously, but Dirk leads you around another bend in the hallway, before coming to a sudden, abrupt stop.

You follow his apprehensive stare down the corridor, to find a pair of figures standing close together a short distance away. They’re both facing away from you, but one of them appears to be an older man dressed in a formal-looking suit, while next to him stands another of the black metal figures, outlined in vivid, foreboding red. Even from here, you can tell this one is different from the others you’ve seen so far, with almost a dozen claw-tipped metal limbs hovering in the air around it. The two seem to be deep in conversation, until the man nods at something and turns to leave. He’s out of sight by the time the red android turns around, and its glowing eyes immediately lock on to your small group.

Dirk seems to hesitate, before slowly walking forwards, and Rose puts out an arm when you try to follow. The android quickly meets him halfway, taking the boy’s chin in his metal hand and examining Dirk’s split lip, along with the ugly bruise on his jaw. Your veins turn to ice when the android’s caustic red eyes suddenly flick up, pinning you and your friends with a cold, hard stare.

“I think we might be in trouble,” Rose warns under her breath, as Dirk says something to divert the android’s attention, and they begin talking back and forth in hushed, urgent tones. Dirk leads it closer, until they’re both within earshot.

“-needs to explain what she’s doing, before she goes dragging people away like that,” Dirk finishes, as they come to stand in front of your group. Your skin practically crawls as the android’s eyes pass over you, then Rose, and finally Dave, with his bloodstained knuckles casually tucked into his pocket, but the glowing eyes linger on him, until Dirk speaks again.

“John,” he gestures at you, “Rose, Dave...this is AR.” The android stares down at the three of you, as the clawed tentacles behind its back slowly writhe, and you resist the urge to fidget nervously. “He’s the one who replaced the old ruler, and ended the war,” Dirk says slowly, directing the statement at Rose. Her eyes widen.

“It is truly a profound honor to meet you, sir,” she says, bowing her head slightly. “We are in your debt, all of us.”

The android’s eyes seem to lose some of their hostility, and you breathe a sigh of relief when the twisting appendages lower to rest passively on the floor. One of them shifts, slowly curling around Dirk’s leg, but he doesn’t seem alarmed, or even concerned.

“A group of four young humans, minus your ill companion, and none among you older than your teens, with an apparently even gender distribution,” the emperor observes in his eerie metallic voice, before glancing meaningfully at Dirk. “An interesting demographic.”

“They came all the way from Lafayette,” Dirk mentions easily, and the android’s expression sours.

“I am very nearly at the end of my patience with that compound.”

“Oh man, yeah, that place sucks,” you add without thinking, then pale at the number of eyes on you. Dirk laughs pleasantly.

“You’re all welcome to stay, even after your friend gets better,” he says, leaning back against the android’s shoulder in a strangely intimate gesture. “We’re always trying to expand the human population here.”

“We’d be honored.” Rose answers for the rest of you, bowing again slightly. “Thank you again, for everything. Our friend owes you her life, as we all do.”

The emperor seems placated by her words, and you repeat the sentiment, while Dave continues trying to keep a low profile. You’re directed to one of the metal doors in the hallway, and find a large room on the other side, with scattered, mismatched furniture. Dirk explains that several groups have come and gone, but you’re welcome to rearrange things and make yourselves at home. He leaves soon after, saying that he’ll be back in the morning to show you where the food and water are synthesized, and Rose seems fascinated by the topic, but thanks him again, and bids him good night.

After you’ve unpacked your meager supplies and claimed one of the mattresses for yourself, you drag it into the middle of the room, positioning yourself next to Dave and Rose, as they likewise settle in for the night. You lie on your back and listen to them whispering to each other, Rose quietly reassuring him that Jade will be up and running laps around the city before he knows it, while Dave thanks her for abandoning the compound to go on a suicide mission with him and for putting up with his shit. You interrupt their conversation with an exaggerated cough, and Dave yanks the pillow out from under your head, before you wrestle it back and hit him with it. Rose ignores the two of you, and Dave ends your scuffle a few minutes later with a firm headlock, but your ploy works, and he not only thanks you, but apologises for how things have been going between the two of you lately. You tell him that you’re just glad to be out of the cold, and he affectionately calls you a dweeb, before rolling over and falling silent. Rose is already breathing slowly, and you follow them a few minutes later, closing your eyes, and letting the gentle, distant hum of the metal city lull you into your first deep, peaceful sleep in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Excellent fanart](http://mortior.tumblr.com/post/118986881251/jaboody-oh-wait-i-never-posted-this-that) (and humor) for this chapter by the wonderful [Jaboody!](http://jaboody.tumblr.com/)

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